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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826713">I Wish That You Were Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_Strange/pseuds/Sunny_Strange'>Sunny_Strange</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Villaneve, dark!eve, graphic depictions of sex, i guess major character death too but not our girls, karaoke is involved at some point, minor appearances from other characters, murder is involved at a lot of points, soft murder girlfriends, they are idiots in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:40:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>80,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_Strange/pseuds/Sunny_Strange</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Villanelle leaves Russia behind in a pile of smoke, ash, and blood. She is broken and confused from her trip back home, heart heavy with the death of her mother and uncertainty about continuing to work for The Twelve. After a long bus ride and a beautiful song, she realizes that Russia was never truly her home to begin with. She should have seen it from the start: Eve is her past, present, and hopefully future. But how to tell Eve this? And what if Eve doesn’t want to hear it coming from a monster?<br/>xxx<br/>canon adjacent up through S3 ep. 6. then fun from there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>433</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Buses Make Me Think of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I highly recommend listening to Wish That You Were Here by Florence and The Machine before, after, and/or on repeat for 5 hours because the Villaneve feels are REAL. If you couldn't tell already it was the inspiration for this story. I hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle’s feet had moved mechanically up until this point. Her tired legs had carried her from point A to B without an ounce of thought or effort. Her poor body had no choice except autopilot really, because every shred of effort and control she had left was going into avoiding complete self destruction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loud music blasted into her ears from the headphones that had been gifted to her from Konstantin not too long ago. The pulsing of instruments were doing their best to drown out the voices in her head but Villanelle could not escape them. Disgust, disappointment, hatred, all the cruel words her mother had said before death were circling through Villanelle’s mind like water down a drain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she had twisted the knife, carving up through only slightly resistant flesh to pierce through her mother’s chest, Villanelle thought she would feel good. She guessed the experience would bring her relief and closure, maybe even joy, but Villanelle only felt worse. She had watched the plumes of smoke coming from her childhood home as they billowed up through the night sky while her mother’s blood was dripping hot and warm down her fingertips. Even though she was far away by the time the smoke blocked out the stars, she still felt as if the thick black air was suffocating her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That feeling of suffocation had not eased in the slightest. It followed her as she broke into a neighbor’s home to clean up, the blood beginning to itch and make her skin crawl. She took a shower there and simply stood under the cold water, watching with glassy eyes as the blood disappeared down the drain. Still, the smoke stayed in her lungs, even after her body was clean and her mother’s clothes covered her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It worsened as she hurried to leave Russia behind, getting so suffocating as to make her physically choke and gag in the disgusting train bathroom. Her clammy hands had gripped the wooden railing that was carved with the initials of lovers. For some reason that only made her more distressed. Villanelle’s knees had shaken violently as she stood to return to her seat and she was so light headed she feared she might faint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The music helped a little for the duration of the train ride and she only had to vomit two more times. But now her feet stopped moving, coming to a halt in the middle of a quiet London street and refusing to move any further. The street lights cast shadows around the cracked pavement that crumpled leaves danced eagerly across. Villanelle watched them as they swirled around her, red, yellow, orange, until her vision was blurred and hazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air had a chill to it that bit at Villanelle’s nose and the wind tossed her hair about her cheeks. A pigeon cooed from its perch atop a stop sign but Villanelle did not hear it. She only heard the music, a tornado of voices, crackling of fire, and mostly the screams of her mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle tossed her head back, eyes wide and wild, looking up at the night sky. There were so many tall buildings and pollution from city life that she could not see the stars, at least not properly. The stars over the Russian countryside were always vibrant and radiant, and you would feel so small looking up at their vastness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss… Miss are you okay?” A tentative voice calls out. When there is no reply the man steps closer and lightly shakes her shoulder. “Miss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is on autopilot again as she whips around. One shaking hand grips the man by his throat and she quickly moves them backwards until he is pinned against the brick wall of the closest building. “Women do not like to be touched without asking. Didn’t your parents ever teach you that?” With her free hand Villanelle pulls her headphones off. Immediately she hears his gasps as he struggles to get away and wishes that she had left them on. The sound makes Villanelle jerk her hand away, dropping it from his throat as if she had been burned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man hunches over as he collapses against the wall and rubs his neck, gasping for air. “What the hell! Are you crazy?” He tries to sound indigent but really just sounds scared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That fear triggers something inside Villanelle and she hates herself for it. Hot tears start rolling down her cheeks without her consent. “Yeah, something like that.” While wiping at her cheeks furiously to try and get this disgusting display of emotion to stop, Villanelle takes off running. Her backpack bounces clumsily as she disappears from the man’s view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t stop running. People look at her with concern, confusion, and/or annoyance as she bounds through the city, desperate to outrun the demons that just won’t stop chasing her. Her legs ache and her chest burns well before she turns down a dark alley to catch her breath. The alley smells awful, like trash and wet dog, but it’s not the smell that makes her vomit. She hurls her guts onto the concrete as the offending tears finally begin to slow. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck is happening to me? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Villanelle thinks to herself as her head pounds and spins. It’s not regret, far from it actually. Villanelle grimaces as she remembers all of the terrible things her mother did to her, and she’s even more pained by seeing the pattern happening to Bor’ka. She knows that her mother was a vile woman who only spat poison. She got what she deserved! </span>
  <em>
    <span>But why the fuck do I feel like this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to regain her composure, Villanelle stands straight and re-arranges her clothes that got tousled from running. Instinctively, her fingers brush over the scar on her abdomen left by the object of her affections all those many months ago. With the touch, Villanelle can feel the earth firmly beneath her feet again. For the first time really since leaving Russia she is grounded. Villanelle presses her palm against the scar until it just barely hurts and takes a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beautiful, wild dark locks framing smooth, tan skin, and chocolate eyes that pierce far to deep appear in Villanelle’s mind. Eve. A small smile pulls at the corner of the older woman’s mouth and with that vision the voices in Villanelle’s head finally quiet completely. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eve would know; she would understand. She always does.</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle laughs at herself for a moment. She’s well aware that she probably sounds crazy, a sleep deprived murderer with trembling hands, head tipped back laughing at the black sky. She doesn’t care. The only thing that matters anymore is getting out of this mess and back to Eve. And Villanelle can’t believe that she was so stupid as to get herself here in the first place!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle knows that she shouldn’t have come to London. Dasha will be expecting her back soon, probably already waiting to hand off another damned postcard. Not to mention Konstantin and all his plotting, undoubtedly anxiously awaiting Villanelle’s return so they can start their escape. Yet her autopilot mechanism had taken her here to London, to where Eve calls home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle dusts herself off one last time and looks down at her clothes with disdain. She’s still wearing what her mother made her and it’s time to change that. As if the universe heard her, a bus passes by. The bright light and clatter of metal draws Villanelle’s attention and without hesitation she chases after it. The bus driver pulls the mechanical beast to a halt to let her on board. He is an older asian man, with thinning hair and kind eyes. “Where to Miss?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s mouth is dry and she can only manage a shrug as she drops several small coins in his palm. The driver smiles at her softly as she moves past him to take a seat towards the back. There are only a few other people on the bus and none so much as spare her a passing glance, each engrossed by the glowing of their phone screens. Judging by the time, Villanelle surmises that this is probably the last route of the night. Taxi’s will be the only ones roaming next and Villanelle can’t help but wonder if Eve only takes Taxi’s now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can’t even see a bus without thinking about that day. She hopes Eve can’t either. Unconsciously, Villanelle’s fingers move up to brush her soft lips, lips that haven’t stopped tingling since they met Eve’s. With one hand still touching her tingling skin, Villanelle uses the other hand to push the headphones back over her ears. She plays the music lower this time so that she can still think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s begun to rain and the thick droplets trail down the glass as if racing. She watches them intently, betting in her mind on which one will hit the black wall of metal first. Watching the rain gives her something more to focus on and it slowly stills the trembling off her hands and shakiness of her breath. She feels a little lighter now, if only slightly, and is able to start formulating a plan. Get to a hotel, change, try to sleep, inevitably fail step 3, find Eve, do her best to tell Eve everything, convince her to run away and definitely not shoot her this time. But no matter what, Villanelle knows without a shadow of a doubt that she does not belong with The Twelve anymore. She belongs with Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stays sitting like this, with her head resting against the window, for a long time. She is the last remaining passenger but the driver doesn’t seem too concerned as he continues the last few stops along the route. Villanelle keeps thinking about escape, slowly working on details, but the fog of sleep deprivation is setting in and it’s getting harder to focus. The hazy edges of sleep are tugging at her mind when they are forced back by a sweet, sad, and beautiful melody that Villanelle immediately thinks Eve would like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting up in her seat, Villanelle shifts her focus to the words that sound like they are being sung by a beautiful siren, calling her out to sea only to make her drown. </span>
  <b>
    <em>“You’re always on my mind. You’re always on my mind…” </em>
  </b>
  <span>Another wave of heavy tears floods down Villanelle’s cheeks as the chorus begins. She tries so hard but she just can’t keep them in. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“And I never minded being on my own. Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home. To be where you are.  </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>But even closer to you, you seem so very far! And now I’m reaching out with every note I sing, and I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind. Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear, tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here. “</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle</span>
  <span> clutches her hands over her mouth as if to keep the sobs in, and presses her knees hard into the back of the seat in front of her to try and stop her shaking. God, how badly she wishes Eve were here! The song continues, pulling at Villanelle’s heart the entire time. When it finishes she hastily presses replay, desperate to maintain that little connection to Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song is a revelation to Villanelle. It all seems so obvious now! Villanelle had wanted to be comforted, she had wanted acceptance and compassion from going home. She now realizes that she went to the wrong place. Russia was never home. Cold fields and the even colder arms of her mother were never home. She should have went to Eve from the start! But how to tell Eve this? And what if Eve doesn’t want to hear it coming from a monster?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle decides to ponder that last bit later, after a change of clothes and some sleep. She gathers up her backpack, headphones still repeating the beautiful rhythm, and walks to the front of the bus despite being tossed around a bit by the movement. “Here is good please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bus comes to a screeching halt and the man looks at Villanelle with concern as she drops a few more coins onto the dashboard. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy from all of the crying and lack of sleep, her hair is tangled from the running combined with the wind. He gestures to the bulky headphones and offers a small smile. “In my culture, people say that the right music can have healing properties.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The strangeness of his comment makes Villanelle cock her head as she replies quizzically. “And what makes you think I need to be healed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone needs to be healed in some way or another.” His grin widens as he winks. Any other circumstance and Villanelle would have considered punching that grin right off of his face. Instead she stares at him, watching carefully. “I hope you find the right song, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. I think…” Villanelle quickly exits the bus, stepping out into the cold London night. The flashy sign of a small nearby hotel beckons her and she does not hesitate to walk towards it. Maybe music can heal? The tentative plan Villanelle had made before rearranges itself, slowly becoming bigger, more beautiful, and maybe just a bit reckless. Villanelle grins widely, humming the tune to herself as she swings open the heavy hotel doors.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I miss you and I wish that you were here. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>xxx</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Couches and Crepes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Bitter Pill staff break room sofa was by far not the worst place Eve Polastri had slept since getting shot in Rome, but it was definitely not the best either. The too firm pillows left her neck stiff and the uneven, bent frame made her back almost unbearably sore. Eve sat up on the fairly uncomfortable couch with a heavy yawn and rubbed her tired eyes. She threw off the thin blanket covering her, letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud. It was the only noise in the office this early in the morning except for her uneasy breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve knew she was being stupid. If Villanelle knew where she lived she probably knew where she worked too. She might as well go back to her shitty apartment and shitty neighbors and shitty life without letting Villanelle disrupt her so much. Yet Eve just couldn’t. Sleeping somewhere Villanelle hadn’t been allowed Eve to sleep just a little bit better, not that she slept great to begin with anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nightmares were still awful no matter where she laid her head. Six months of quiet had done nothing to ease their dark presence in her life. In fact they only got worse. Eve woke up screaming most nights, before the sun had even thought about touching the still black sky. A cold sweat would drench her entire, trembling body and she swore she could feel sticky, hot blood coating her skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t the actual act of murdering Raymond that gave Eve the nightmares. It wasn’t her own blood that now forever stains the stones of Roman ruins either. It was the fact that she would do it all again in a heartbeat. In her dreams she would see Villanelle’s beautiful face, but her usually rosey lips were a dusty blue and her skin was whiter than a sheet. She was dying and that terrified Eve. So Eve did what she had to do. She struck her axe through the flesh of anyone who dared stand between them. Sometimes that was Raymond, sometimes it was Carolyn, sometimes it was a stranger, but sometimes it was Niko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nightmares with Niko were always the worst. Those left her shaken all day. No amount of coffee or alcohol could calm her nerves after killing her husband in her dreams. Former husband that is…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve bites her lip a little too hard, just enough to make the supple skin beneath her teeth release a trickle of metallic tasting blood. The shock of pain brings Eve back to the present and she ties her unruly hair back into a ponytail. She was lucky enough to have a night without one of those wretched nightmares, so why was she ruining her morning by thinking about them? Why can’t she stop thinking about Villanelle? Some things are not meant to be known. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve flicks her tongue over the small wound on her lip just to feel the sting, thinking to herself that that’s what she deserves and so much worse for basically throwing her life way for a murderer. But that’s part of the problem isn’t it? Villanelle isn’t just a murderer. She’s incredibly smart, bright, magnetic, powerful, and for some reason irresistible. She’s moody and sarcastic, she can be mean and ruthless, but that’s all part of her charm. In Eve’s mind, Villanelle is everything all at once. Day and night, light and dark, the yin to her yang. Sometimes Eve hates herself for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lights in the front of the building flicker on, jump starting Eve into gear. She quickly throws her blanket into her duffel bag to make it appear as though maybe she just got an early start and didn’t just wake up on an increasingly uncomfortable work couch. She did wear her clothes to bed anyway so maybe the act will be convincing. “Good morning Jamie, didn’t expect to see you so early.” Her voice sounds overly cheerful, making her still tired ears wince.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man doesn’t buy it for a second, and frankly neither does she. “You know Eve, you really need to find another place to stay. You can’t keep sleeping here, it’s not good for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah well I guess I don’t really have a history of doing things that are good for me, do I?” The harsh tone of her voice makes her cringe and she immediately tries to smooth the situation over. “I’m sorry Jamie. I didn’t sleep well and haven’t had coffee yet and ugh, my brain just feels like mush right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckles, a small grin appearing on his softening face. “That couch is pretty shite.” Jamie lifts up a brown paper bag, grin widening. “I figured you’d be here though so I brought us some breakfast. Fancy a croissant?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh that sounds amazing!” The cheer in her voice is real this time. Food always makes things better. Eve drags her still stiff limbs off of the couch and trudges over to plop down on the chair opposite Jamie’s desk. The smell of the buttery pastry makes her mouth water and calms the churning of her stomach. Jamie passes Eve a cup of coffee as well, still hot and steaming from the little cafe right next door. The two eat in a comfortable silence. Eve occasionally glances out the window while chewing and tries to stay in the moment. If she doesn’t focus on something her mind will inevitably wander to other, more beautiful things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So how are you holding up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, what?” Eve finishes the last bite of her croissant and turns her attention back to Jamie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises an eyebrow and proceeds cautiously. “You know, with everything that happened to Niko and all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Eve says quietly, taking a sip of her coffee so that she doesn’t have to respond right away. “I’m okay. I’m just thankful that he isn’t dead, even if he doesn’t want me in his life anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re sure it wasn’t her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Positive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie grits his teeth, seemingly annoyed at her quick response to his last question. “How can you be so sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because she knows that he’s off limits. Villanelle might be a psychopath, but she follows the rules of our game.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie raises his voice, startling Eve with the intensity. “Well, was she following the rules when she shot you?!” He stands from his desk, moving to pace the office. He rubs his forehand with an exasperated expression before settling to stand in front of the large board that catalogs all of their leads. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Eve replies quietly. “But I stabbed her so I guess that made us even. Plus I’m pretty sure she was busy with a different murder during the time frame so it couldn’t have been her anyway.” Before Eve can stop her eager fingertips, they fly to hover over her scar. The bullet had blasted through her collar bone, ripping through muscle and tissue and bone to tear out through her shoulder blade. Though her flesh had healed, leaving behind a large, discolored stretch of taut skin, it still stung whenever she lifted her arm to hail a cab or reached to get a book from the top shelf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You stabbed her?” Jamie’s voice is soft again, not accusatory, just filled with concern. Eve doesn’t deserve the concern, she thinks to herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I stabbed Villanelle and she shot me so now we’re even.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But now Niko is all fucked up and lucky to be alive and frankly, that doesn’t sound so even to me.” There is a long, uncomfortable silence between them. Jamies continues to pace and Eve just sips her coffee wishing that their conversation could be over already. “You can stay at my place tonight. My kids are at their mother’s for the weekend.” The offer surprises Eve and Jamie laughs at her expression. “No ulterior motives Eve, just two coworkers and friends hanging out. You don’t have to of course, but I can promise that the couch at my place is much nicer than that old thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve wants to take him up on the offer. An evening with friends would be nice, not to mention a more comfortable place to rest would be great. Then she thinks of that ugly, adorable teddy bear, and the haunting sound of Villanelle’s voice playing from it’s tiny pink heart and she shakes her head vehemently. “It’s too dangerous. What if she follows me there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We all know what we’re getting into just by investigating this stuff.” Jamie says with a shrug and gestures to their evidence hanging up on the wall. “You didn’t necessarily put any of us here in the cross hairs, it’s where we choose to be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve looks over at Kenny’s desk, a sob catching in her throat. She’s sure Kenny would choose to still be sitting right there, staying up to greet the sun while doing his research if he could. She’s sure Bill would choose to be at home with his family, watching his daughter grow up if he wasn’t murdered. She’s sure Niko would choose to be safe, voice in full working order, playing bridge with his club and coming home to cook dinner for her if she hadn’t dragged him into this mess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To quiet her now racing mind, Eve presses her palm over her scar hard enough to leave a dull ache when she moves her hand away. She takes a deep breath to steady herself and rises from the chair. “I think I need some air.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eve…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay Jamie. Thank you for the offer, I’ll think about it.” She says with a smile only to comfort him, knowing damn well that she won’t be spending the night. Eve gathers her jacket and leaves in a hurry, taking the stairs two a time all the way to the first floor. She bursts out of the front door into the cool, crisp London morning. Greedily, she gulps the air into her lungs, clutching her hands into fists at her side to stave off a panic attack. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s okay, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve lies to herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m okay. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With one more deep breath Eve manages to gather her composure. Tipping her head back, she watches as soft white clouds float overhead, chased by pigeons who coo happily in the morning sun. The breeze tugs at her jacket, pulling the end off to the right, and Eve releases her hair from its confines to dance in the wind as well. Her dark locks curl up around her cheeks, tickling her nose and making her laugh. Beautiful. If Villanelle were here to share this moment she would definitely call Eve beautiful. And just maybe Eve would believe her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve’s feet pick a direction, going nowhere in particular, just following the grid like London streets. She stuffs her hands in her pockets to keep them from reaching up to caress the scar that now seems to burn hot under her clothing. A bus passes by, making Eve’s body tremble and the scar scream for attention even louder. Does Villanelle take the bus anymore, or only taxis? Does she ride around at night hoping to run into each other like Eve does? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a park up ahead. A crepe vendor dances around her stall, causing plumes of powdered sugar to float through the morning air. Eve’s stomach rumbles, reminding her that one croissant after not eating the entire day before was not enough. Prompted by another grumble, Eve walks over to the brightly colored stall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One strawberry crepe please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At once mademoiselle!” The chef's french accent and jovial demeanor bring a smile to Eve’s lips. She can’t help but think that Villanelle would enjoy a crepe from here too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a mere minute before a steaming hot crepe covered in syrup coated strawberries, dusted with powdered sugar is presented to her. Eve takes the paper plate eagerly. “Merci beaucoup!” (Thank you very much!)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Parlez vous francais?” (Do you speak French?) The chef asks with a raised eyebrow and mischievous grin, one that reminds her even more of Villanelle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Un peu.” (A little.) Eve replies with a shrug and small smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enchantee! J'espère que vous apprécierez votre repas, belle femme.” (Nice to meet you! I hope you enjoy your meal, beautiful woman.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve blushes slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear with the free hand that is not holding the plate. She wants to close her eyes and pretend that it was Villanelle speaking to her. “Merci, je suis sur que sera merveilleux.” (Thank you, I’m sure it will be wonderful.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve takes her delicious smelling crepe and walks into the park. She sits at a wooden bench, the surface of which is carved with the initials of lovers, and wonders if maybe one day a bench somewhere will have E + V engraved on its face forever. She doesn’t let herself think about that for too much longer. It’s a pipe dream. One that she shouldn’t even want in the first place yet can’t seem to stop her heart from yearning for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve tries to focus on chewing, on bringing the fork to her lips for bite after bite, but she can’t help it. Before long she is thinking about Villanelle again. Eve pictures long blonde hair framing cat like eyes, eyes that were once inaccessible to her but are now deep hazel pools just waiting for Eve to dive in deep. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you? What are you doing? What did you eat for breakfast? Are you a dog or a cat person? Do you have nightmares too? Could we ever work? Do you want to even try?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Je ne savais pas que tu parlais français.” (I didn’t know you spoke French.) At first Eve thinks it's the crepe vendor, but then she focuses on the voice and gasps, dropping her plate to splatter onto the ground. “Je t'en achèterai un nouveau, mon amour.” (I will buy you a new one, my love.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve’s hands begin to tremble uncontrollably, not from fear or the cold, but from something else entirely, something painful yet beautiful. It rises in her chest, spreading throughout her entire body until Eve feels as if she will explode. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Think of the devil and she shall appear.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Je ne peux toujours pas arrêter de penser à toi, Eve.” (I still can’t stop thinking about you, Eve.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for coming back for more! I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I hope you are enjoying reading it just as much. I'm still learning French so sorry to anyone who is an actual French speaker for any possible typos. Learning a new language is hard but French is so beautiful and one day I'll be fluent.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Maybe More, Maybe Less</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't thank you all enough for the support. You have no idea how happy all of the kudos, comments, and hits make me. Thank you and enjoy chapter 3!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t stop thinking about you either. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The words hang on Eve’s tongue, choked back only by surprise at seeing the beautiful, dangerous assassin so close and looking so unexpectedly vulnerable.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I think about you all day and all night. I think about you during every conversation and every moment of silence. When I think about my future, all I see is your face over and over again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can't bring herself to confess any of it. She’s not ready and she’s not sure if she ever will be. Eve knows that if any of those words ever left her mouth there would be no going back. Villanelle would own her, as if she doesn’t really already, and Eve just isn’t ready to make that kind of commitment. She is still clinging to the shred of a possibility that her life can go back to normal again, with a house and a partner and a chicken, a quiet, boring life. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But maybe Villanelle could be a part of that boring life? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are your eyes closed? Are you imagining kissing me again, because if so I would be happy to reenact it with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Russian accent and Villanelle’s deep chuckle make Eve’s eyes fly open. She hadn’t even realized she had closed them and is more than annoyed that maybe Villanelle was onto her. “No, I’m imagining punching you in the face again.” Eve deadpans.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This only makes Villanelle laugh harder and Eve hates the way the melodic sound makes her insides twist. “That was a good shot. It stung for days! Sometimes I close my eyes and I think about that too, so don’t feel so bad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Putting on her best glare, Eve meets the steady gaze of the assassin standing across from her. “Villanelle, why are you here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is leaning casually against the park clock. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a bun sitting perfectly atop her head, not a single hair out of place despite the wind. Her clothes are immaculate as always. A baby blue blouse dips low down her chest, plunging to meet light ruffles sitting just above where Eve pictures her belly button to be. The ruffles come to an end at navy blue slacks that hug Villanelle’s powerful legs, held in place by a fancy tan belt. A tan jacket hangs loosely over her shoulders too, billowing slightly with the breeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To anyone else Villanelle would look the pristine picture of an important business woman just stopping to chat with an old friend during her stroll to work. But now that Eve is looking at her properly, her well trained eyes zero in on the fine details. She notices the tiny remnants of red staining the whites of Villanelle’s eyes, and the slightly desperate look hidden behind her hazel gaze. Eve sees the skin around Villanelle’s fingers bitten raw as the assassin’s hands tremble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle, what’s wrong?”  Eve’s previously icy tone is replaced by one that is much softer, gentle even, and it makes the younger woman flinch in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought that something serious is troubling Villanelle makes Eve grit her teeth. Whatever it was, whoever had hurt her, Eve would find them and kill them. The intensity of her thoughts makes Eve bite her lip hard for the second time today. She doesn’t want to think or feel that way! But maybe it’s time to give into what she truly desires? Hasn’t Villanelle always told her to let go?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t I come to see you without something being wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but you never do.” Villanelle pouts at that, bringing a small smile to Eve’s lips. Villanelle could be so childish sometimes yet Eve only finds it endearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let me buy you another crepe.” Villanelle’s eyes glance down at the splattering of strawberries and sugar at Eve’s feet. She sighs lightly and pushes off of the clock that she was leaning against to walk towards Eve. Eve’s automatic response is to stiffen, her body tensing with Villanelle’s approach. Of course Villanelle notices and raises an eyebrow in amusement. “No need to be afraid, I am not here to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pigeons are already fighting over the scraps and Villanelle has to gently shoo them away as she picks up the plate to deposit it in the closest bin. Eve scoffs and huffs indignantly, body relaxing slightly as Villanelle gets farther away again. “I’m not afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a secret agent, shouldn’t you be better at lying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve rolls her eyes and can’t help but chuckle. “I meant I’m not afraid of you. And as an assassin, shouldn’t you want me to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Eve.” Villanelle’s face turns from playful to serious in an instant, brows furrowing and causing little wrinkles to etch up her forehead. That same glimmer of desperation that Eve saw when she first met the assassin’s gaze flickers in her eyes again just long enough for Eve to notice. “Not anymore.” Villanelle shakes her head aggressively, not to confirm her words but to shake the building anxiety from her mind. “Just stay here and I will be right back with more crepes.” Villanelle starts to walk but quickly turns back to face Eve, eyes even more desperate than before. “Please Eve, stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Eve has a chance to reply, Villanelle turns on her heels again and walks briskly out of the park, back towards the street food vendor. When she rounds the corner out of the older woman’s view, Eve releases a breath that she didn’t realize she had been holding. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve thinks to herself</span>
  <em>
    <span>, something really has Villanelle rattled...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve tells herself its curiosity, that that's why she stays. Purely curiosity and definitely nothing else. She tells herself that the criminologist in her needs to know what is causing Villanelle distress so that she can further understand the brain of a psychopath. It is academic, professional curiosity and 100% has nothing to do with the nagging need to protect and comfort the younger woman that Eve simply can not shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pigeons coo and squawk, hopping about Eve’s feet to pick at the few remaining crumbs. Eve watches them as she waits, hands gripping the bench until her knuckles turn white. The breeze pulls her wild hair around her cheeks again, making Eve sigh as she remembers she never even brushed it before leaving the office this morning. Then again, Villanelle does like it messy so maybe that worked out for the best?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god.” Eve hears the whisper of Villanelle’s voice from the park entrance. She doesn’t think she was meant to hear it, but it only furthers her curiosity as well as concern. Eve turns her head away from the frenzy of feathers to look at the blonde woman whose voice sounds like a song to her. Villanelle is still standing at the park entrance, both hands full with steaming hot crepes and what appear to be several cups of coffee. Her eyes are glued on Eve with an expression of relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring that over here already would you? Since somebody made me drop my food before I’m starving.” Eve’s sweet, sarcastic voice shakes Villanelle from her trance. She smiles widely as she starts back over to Eve, then gestures to a further away picnic table that will actually have room for all of the goodies in Villanelle’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two meet across the table, sitting opposite each other in tense silence. Villanelle can feel the cold of the metal chair through her clothes and it makes her shiver. She is not sure if after Russia she will ever be able to truly feel warm again. Doing her best to shake off any offending thoughts of Russia, Villanelle lays the marvelous spread of food before Eve and grins. “You aren’t a tea person right? Even though you’re from London. You like coffee, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Eve gives her a small smile back, trying to work out just how Villanelle knew that detail about her. It’s a small detail, but it feels surprisingly intimate coming from someone who she used to consider her enemy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I brought some options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess.” Eve looked just as surprised by saying the word as Villanelle is to hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess how I like my coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle clasps her hands together as she focuses on Eve’s face, seeming to scan the older woman's features carefully, slowly, as if looking for a clue. It’s really only a few seconds, but to Eve it feels like Villanelle is staring at her forever. Eventually she blushes, ducking her head down to avoid further eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t even look at the cup as she slides it to Eve. “This one.” Villanelle keeps her gaze focused as Eve takes a sip from the cup offered to her. The asian woman’s eyes light up in surprise as the first delicious sip touches her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gleam of joy in Villanelle’s hazel eyes is contagious and Eve soon finds herself grinning happily as well. “I tell you this all the time Eve but you never seem to believe me… We are the same.” The smile slowly fades from Eve’s face and Villanelle fears she has crossed the line too soon. It’s unlike her, but she fumbles over her words to try and salvage the situation. “But who doesn’t like blak coffee, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment slips away and Eve replies with a small sigh, “Most people, actually.” She sips her coffee, eyes closed once more, needing a quick second to regain the composure that almost slipped through her finger tips. Eve’s scar aches again under her jacket and she longs to touch it. More than that, she wishes Villanelle would be the one to reach out and touch it, to calm the burning fire within her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But most people suck so….” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve relaxes slightly with Villanelle’s reply. “Yeah, that’s true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking the replacement strawberry crepe, Eve busies herself with eating. Villanelle follows her lead, tucking into her own sweat morning delicacy. They stay like that for a little while, filling the silence between them with chewing and awkward glances that last just a fraction too long. Villanelle is about to bring another heaping forkful to her parted lips when Eve’s soft voice distracts her. “Can I have a bite?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In reply, Villanelle extends her arm until the fork is hovering in front of Eve’s full, soft lips. Villanelle notices a small knick at the corner of Eve’s mouth. She can’t help the pang of jealousy flaring up in her stomach as she thinks of someone else putting that cut there with their teeth in the throws of passion. It makes her hand wobble and her head spin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve catches Villanelle’s now trembling, outstretched hand and closes her lips around the food, eyes involuntarily closing once more at the heavenly taste. “Wow, that’s good.” Villanelle’s mouth goes dry watching the exchange, hand still quivering in Eve’s grip. “Want to try mine?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Villanelle can do is nod. Eve’s fingers trace their way off of Villanelle’s hand as she drops it to pick up her own fork again. For a second Villanelle just leaves it hanging there, and when Eve raises an eyebrow in question Villanelle blushes and quickly returns her hand to her side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Eve offers a fork piled high with strawberries and cream, holding it up to Villanelle’s lips to mimic the younger woman’s previous actions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle takes the bite eagerly, eyes locked on Eve’s the entire time. She makes a show of chewing slowly, licking her lips at the end. She is delighted by the light blush now covering Eve’s cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle… I can’t do this.” Eve’s voice is a whisper, slightly panicked and husky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t do what, have breakfast with a friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what we are, friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle bites her lip and shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe less, maybe more. You tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For what feels like the hundredth time today, Eve is surprised. Villanelle can’t help but giggle at the expression; she thinks it’s adorable, Eve’s mouth hanging slightly agape and eyes somehow darker. Villanelle has never willingly put power into Eve’s hands, especially never so openly like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Eve remembers the distress she saw on Villanelle’s face earlier in their encounter and starts to worry again. She promptly snaps her mouth shut and changes her expression to be unreadable. “Why are you here, Villanelle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, to have breakfast with a friend.” Villanelle takes another bite, chewing slowly. When she finishes, she speaks quietly. “And maybe to talk about some stuff…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew something was wrong! Come on Villanelle, tell me! What happened, what did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to look so pleased with yourself, Eve.” Villanelle snaps back with a sneer as she focuses her eyes off of Eve and back down to her crepe. “Why do you always assume that I did something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Usually because you have.” Eve folds her hands in front of herself, letting the chill of the metal table seep into her bones. “Either way, I would love to hear what is going on. It must be something big for you to come all the way to London to talk to me about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I just want to talk to you about the weather.” Villanelle blurts out. When she finally looks up her eyes swimming with tears that manage to miraculously stay trapped within hazel orbs. Eve is taken aback by the sight. She always thought of Villanelle as this powerful statue made of stone, not ever truly feeling the rain or sunshine that landed upon her beautifully carved figure. “It was raining last night, there was a huge storm. My hotel room was shaking from the thunder. I wanted to talk to you about it. I wanted to know if it was raining where you were too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle…” Eve tries softly, but the younger woman holds up a slightly trembling hand to stop her. A single tear rolls down the curve of her cheek and Eve wants nothing more than to reach out and wipe it away, but she can tell that Villanelle is too vulnerable right now and is worried that the touch might scare her off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I just want to talk to you about food. I don’t want to guess what you like, I want to know. I want to know your favorite dishes and learn how to cook them. I want to know what shows you watch before falling asleep and what keeps you up at night. Eve, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t control herself now. She maneuvers her chair so that it’s right next to Villanelle and wraps her arm around the assassin’s strong shoulders. She’s reminded of the first time that they ate together, not that Villanelle had been invited that time either. Eve remembers the fear she felt when the water rushed into her mouth from the tub, the confusion at Villanelle’s request for dinner, and mostly the intense interest and connection she had felt for Villanelle even then. She remembers Villanelle crying, putting on a show to test Eve. This is nothing like that time. Villanelle is sitting next to her with genuine tears, genuine emotions. Eve knows she’s probably the only one to ever see Villanelle like this and can’t help but feel honored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You. You’re what keeps me up at night Villanelle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A million emotions cross Villanelle’s face in the blink of an eye. Joy, panic, pain, stress, confusion, and if Eve looks hard enough she’s sure she sees some fear mixed in too. It’s a whole range of emotions that Eve wasn’t positive Villanelle was capable of. For some reason, the sight makes Eve find Villanelle even more beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle opens her mouth in reply but is rudely interrupted by the chiming of her phone. She rolls her eyes dramatically and practically growls at the damned device as she pulls it from her jacket pocket. Villanelle is careful to keep her phone tipped away from Eve as she opens the text from Konstantin: </span>
  <b>Shall I take what happened in Russia as your letter of resignation? I don’t think they’ll let you off the hook as easily as I will. Helene is already asking for you. It’s now or never. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meet me tonight.” Villanelle blurts out as she hastily pockets her phone. “9pm, The Bridge Bar. It’s off of Voltaire St. you can’t miss it!” Villanelle wishes she could stay tucked under Eve’s comforting arm forever but she stands up abruptly, eyes wild again. “Big pink sign.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle, wait!” Eve reaches out, fingers brushing over the edge of Villanelle’s jacket. She’s a second to late though as Villanelle whirls out of reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was nice though, wasn’t it? Breakfast and talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Eve admits almost begrudgingly. “It was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then meet me tonight, I have something I want to show you.” Villanelle’s grin is mischievous but Eve can see the seriousness reflecting in the lines of her forehead and intensity of her gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t wait for Eve to respond. In an instant she’s already back at the front of the park, waving over her shoulder. As she goes, Eve swears she hears Villanelle hum a vaguely familiar tune.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Je ne peux pas arrêter de penser à toi non plus!” (I can’t stop thinking about you either!) Eve calls out on impulse to the empty space where Villanelle had just been. But it’s too late, the assassin has already disappeared into the early morning clouds. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you liked it! Chapter 4 will be posted on Monday so you don't have to wait too long.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Set In Motion, Kind Of</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all for the amazing response to Chapter 3! As promised, here is Ch. 4. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle leaves the small public park behind her, heart feeling both heavy and impossibly light all at the same time. Eve had touched her voluntarily, without it ending in violence, and that made Villanelle’s childish little heart giddy. She remembers the feeling of Eve’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and the look of concern and compassion that Villanelle is sure she does not deserve. Those happy thoughts take up all the space in Villanelle’s mind and she is intent on keeping it that way until getting back to the hotel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of her heels on the sidewalk gives a pleasant click to go with her cheerful humming as Villanelle weaves through the busy city streets. Plenty of people are taking their morning commute to work and Villanelle expertly dodges touching even a single one on her way back to the hotel. She’s still humming happily, dizzy from the possibility of Eve showing up to meet her tonight, as Villanelle finally makes it back and throws herself down onto the bed with a squeal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing her eyes, Villanelle can’t help but picture Eve. The way her thick hair danced in the breeze was intoxicating, the way her dark eyes could see straight into Villanelle made her knees weak, and the older woman’s smile just did things to Villanelle that she still couldn’t quite explain. She remembers the single treasonist tear that managed to escape though and curses herself momentarily for the moment of weakness. With a sigh, Villanelle rolls from her back onto her stomach and pulls out the burner phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The message from Konstantin is still glaring on the screen, making her bury her face in the pillow dramatically.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Work before pleasure I guess. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Villanelle then types out a quick, snarky response, laughing to herself as she imagines Konstantin’s face of annoyance when he reads it. </span>
  <b>Tell Helene that I am spoken for. Wouldn’t want Eve getting jealous ;)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Bright sunlight filters through the mostly drawn curtains of her drab hotel room. It’s ugly pale orange walls are illuminated by the light making an even harsher contrast to the dark wood flooring. This is far from the 5 star resort hotel that Villanelle would prefer, but she has other more important things to save her money for now. Villanelle reminds herself that she has enough stashed away in various places to last her and Eve a while on the run, but she secretly hopes that it will need to last them a very long time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Konstantin is right. I am going soft. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, her burner phone starts to buzz annoyingly. “You could have just texted back you know. Or are you too old to really understand how texting works?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Villanelle expects an annoyed chuckle back or some form of berating at least, but Konstantin’s gruff voice is stern and unyielding. It reminds her of how he was during her training and makes her sit up on the bed to focus better. “This is no time for joking, Villanelle. We are both in deep shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By we, do you mean just you? Because that’s all you really care about these days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true. Ugh!” Konstantin groans on the other line. “Why do young women always have to be so difficult!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m especially difficult just for you Konstantin. It’s why you like me so much.” Villanelle attempts to bring a smile to his face with the teasing but she can tell that he only becomes more tense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious Villanelle. The Twelve are not very happy with the stunt you pulled back in Russia and they are pissed at me for ordering the hit on that widow. I don’t know how, but they traced it back to you and me. Do you not realize that there are dozens in line just waiting to take our places! Not just mine Villanelle, yours too. Especially yours.” Konstantin has to stop to catch his breath, clearly worked up from their conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both know there will never be anyone good enough to replace me. I am one of a kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open your eyes Villanelle! Don’t you see! I know you think you can handle yourself, you are the best.” He admits almost begrudgingly, “But first they are going to come for my daughter and your Eve. Don’t you realize that!” . </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Konstantin’s distress passes to Villanelle like the flu. Her stomach churns and lurches to her throat, threatening to spill it’s contents right there on the mattress. “My Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, exactly, think of Eve. She and Irina are in danger! Not to mention you and I. Helene is already searching for you. She knows you and Eve are in London. I’m calling to give you a head start for the record, not because I don’t know how to text.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thin smile pulls at Villanelle’s lips due to Konstantin sounding more like his usual self for the last bit, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Let Helene come. I will kill her like I killed my own mother. Then Eve and I can be free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that simple Villanelle, you know that. The Twelve have reach in every government of every country. They are a plague and we need to leave, now! I’m on my way to pick up Irina and then we can disappear. I’m thinking someplace with a beach, maybe Cuba. You and Eve need to be ready by Sunday. I’ll be waiting with Irina in Union square. Please try to stay alive until then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is touched by the sincerity in Konstantin’s voice now. He really wants them to come, to escape with him and his blood daughter. When they had briefly talked about escaping the clutches of The Twelve prior to her trip to Russia, it had always sounded like Villanelle was a burden, only getting invited because she was a loose end that needed tying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as her mind races through her options. “It did not go so well the last time I asked Eve to run away with me. I’m working on a different plan to make it go better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if it doesn’t, you need to be prepared to leave her behind. That’s probably better for her anyway. If she doesn’t come with us the farther away she is from you the safer she will be.” Villanelle knows Konstantin is telling the truth but it still stings. “Come together, alone, or not at all, but I hope to see you both Sunday night. 10pm, Union square, look for a black lincoln.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The line goes dead and Villanelle lets the phone drop to the floor with a heavy thud. She rubs her hands over her eyes and cheeks, pressing much harder than necessary. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why can’t anything be simple?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Villanelle stares up at the chipped paint of the hotel ceiling, eyes following the cracks like a map as she thinks. “If only Carolyn had accepted my employment offer.” She whispers to herself and the ceiling. “She is very stupid for saying no. She will regret that one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Villanelle can’t help but feel like the stupid one in this senario. She had gone to Carolyn only yesterday morning with her tail between her legs, head down as she asked for a job. It was meant to help Eve. Everything she did now and for the rest of her life was meant to help Eve, but now Eve is in even more danger because of her and Villanelle is sitting in a shitty hotel with only scraps of a plan coming together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn had said that Villanelle wasn’t enough. She had worked for so long without questioning or even thinking about the people she was working for that Villanelle had missed out on years of gathering any usable intel. She killed people, they gave her a way out of prison and a lavish lifestyle. It was a win-win in her book and at the time she had no reason to dig deeper. Now that her hands and heart are tired from all of the bloodshed and she doesn’t want to be a pawn in someone else's game anymore, Villanelle has nothing worth the senior MI6 agent’s time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or does she? Villanelle stands, heels clicking and gears turning as she paces the wooden floor. She has her hands on her hips and her jaw is set firmly as she thinks hard about what Konstantin and Carolyn said. Villanelle might not have the kind of information that would grant her and Eve protection or a pardon, but she knows who does! Villanelle drops to her knees to retrieve the phone that she carelessly left on the floor, dialing Carolyn’s number with euthaniasm and anxiety in equal force. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the first ring Carolyn Martens answers with an exasperated sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you that I am not interested? Unless you’ve suddenly decided that killing is back on the table I do not require your services.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killing is never off the table completely for me, Carolyn. I just won’t do it for shitty people behind smoke and mirrors anymore.” There is silence on the other end, giving nothing away and making Villanelle huff in frustration. “That includes you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assumed.” Carolyn deadpans, annoyance clearly growing. “So why are you interrupting my morning tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you want information right? Something that will lead you closer to The Twelve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but we’ve been over this and none of the information you have fits that criteria. So again, why are you wasting my time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I got it for you.” There’s a pause as Carolyn seems to mull it over and Villanelle can’t help the hope from building back up in her chest. “I have a source, Ms. Bossy Pants, a big one. I’ll bring them in and they will be all yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another long pause and Villanelle holds her breath in anticipation. When Carolyn finally replies she is as cryptic as usual, “The quality of your reward will depend on the quality of your information.” It’s rather undignified of her, but Villanelle can’t help throwing her fist up in the air with a sense of victory. “I expect something good, Villanelle. Bring me what you have tonight. I’ll be waiting at the Stafford Docks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight?” Villanelle practically whines. “I can’t tonight, I have a very important date! I have been practicing since yesterday!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Practicing-” Carolyn abruptly cuts herself off, firmly deciding that she does not want to know. “Fine, give Eve my regards and I will expect to hear from you very soon. I am not a patient woman, Villanelle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some things are worth waiting for.” Villanelle smiles widely as she ends the call, hands practically buzzing with excitement. She is thrilled now that a solid plan is in motion, even though historically just winging it has worked just fine. Leaving things up to chance is just too risky now, especially now that she has so much to lose. But is Eve even Villanelle’s to lose in the first place? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that thought Villanelle closes her eyes and leans back into the bed again. The scratchy duvet cover itches her exposed bits of skin but she is too distracted by the pounding in her chest to pay it much mind. Eve is basically perfect. She’s smart and beautiful and so mind blowlingly interesting. She’s the least boring person Villanelle has ever met and she knows that even after a lifetime she could never tire of Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what if Eve tires of her? What if she doesn’t want her in the first place? The sting of rejection bites Villanelle hard, making her pinch her eyes closed and her finger nails dig into her palms hard enough to leave behind tiny crescent moon indents. Rejection is almost worse than boredom for Villanelle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The assassin digs her nails in harder, needing the pain to steer her mind away from the too intense emotions swirling behind her eyelids. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyday,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Villanelle vows to herself,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Everyday I will try to be the person Eve deserves. I mean, of course I’m fabulous already but...I will try to be better. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Villanelle says out loud as she hops off of the bed with eyes wide open, clapping her hands together in a satisfying bang. She knows she needs to be a bit more money conscious but staying at a shitty hotel alone is one thing, wearing ugly clothes to a date with Eve is another. “Time to go shopping and get ready for my date!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know this one is a little short but Ch.5 will be up Wednesday and (not to pat myself on the back or anything) it's a good one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. It Was You or Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, the next few chapters are a sort of re-write of the season 3 finale. Of course there are tons of differences but some events are mimicked. With that in mind, I feel it's necessary to state that of course I do not own Killing Eve or any of it's characters, and that any correlation to events happening in the show are purely for creative purposes and not profit. CYA right? Now with that out of the way, enjoy chapter 5!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The outfit that Villanelle picks out is killer, pun intended. It had taken her the better part of the day to find; time well spent in her opinion since it ended in such a masterpiece. She had searched through the entirety of four major department stores before finding the perfect piece that was both feminine and powerful, sweet yet seductive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A ballet slipper pink, cashmere blend of fabric drapes Villanelle’s athletic figure. It was as if the suit had been tailored to her specifically, hugging every curve then flaring out to accentuate her hips. Beneath the suit jacket lies a nearly sheer black lace tank top that tickles Villanelle’s already heated flesh and dips down low enough to expose a healthy amount of skin. Villanelle can’t help but admire herself, hoping that Eve will appreciate the view as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she twirls around in front of the mirror in her hotel room, the edges of her outfit flaring up with the movement, Villanelle’s hazel eyes gleam with excitement. She’s always been one to put on a show, even if the audience is her alone, but the thought of Eve seeing her in this number gets Villanelle’s heart racing. She doesn’t stop twirling until she’s so dizzy that she has to brace herself against the bathroom sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down at her fingers gripping the ceramic, Villanelle grimaces at the bits of flesh around her nail beds that are still raw from her chewing them. The unfortunate vice she thought she had shaken followed her home from Russia and Villanelle thinks that maybe she should have waited another day or two before going to Eve so that they had time to heal. But hasn’t she done enough waiting already? Every minute apart from Eve feels like agony to the younger woman, not that she would ever be dramatic about it or anything of the sort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The manicure she got should be distracting enough anyway. The light pink coating her nails looks stunning, especially combined with the glossy coat of glitter that she had put over it. The glitter catches the light, sending little sparkling rainbows in every direction when hit just right. It’s like having jewelry on every finger and Villanelle can not be more pleased with how it brings the whole ensemble together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle takes another moment to go over herself in the mirror, making sure that her long hair is still perfectly styled back in it’s ponytail and that her jet black Doc Martens are all laced up and looking good. She fidgets with her applicator brush, applying another layer of light makeup to cover the dull black circles still hanging under her eyes and finally deems herself presentable. She gathers her burner phone, Ipod, extra makeup for reapplication later, a new pearl colored switch blade that she had acquired while out shopping, and a comb and places the lot in her glittery black clutch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s still a bit early to be meeting Eve but Villanelle can’t help herself. Nerves, anxiety, and excitement for tonight have been building up inside Villanelle and she feels as if she is ready to burst. This is it, tonight is make or break for their relationship and Villanelle is dying to know how it’s going to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She checks to make sure the door is locked behind her and tucks the room key into her clutch before strutting out of the hotel and into the evening air. It’s a Friday night and plenty of people are out and about on their way to whatever fun function they have planned for the evening. People are dressed in fancy clothes ready for a night of clubbing that they hope to forget in the morning but none even come close to looking as beautiful as Villanelle does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walks effortlessly through the crowds, people scattering like ants when they see her coming, knowing damn well that she could crush them with her boots in an instant if that was her wish. The numerous looks of admiration and lust she gets as she walks fuel the fire burning in her chest and help calm her lingering nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle stops and stands in the alcove of the closest bus stop, not wanting to sit on the grimy public bench before her. The sun has begun to set in the distance, casting beautiful purples and deep blues to dance across the glass there. The navy Villanelle sees reflected reminds her of the navy dress that Eve had worn in Berlin over a year ago, the one that she had secretly picked out the belt for. The memory brings a small smile to Villanelle’s pink painted lips, hoping that Eve will wear blue tonight as well. It’s such a flattering color on the Asian woman’s tan skin and if everything goes according to plan, Villanelle hopes to see it in a pile on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going somewhere fun tonight?” A British voice pulls Villanelle from her thoughts and grates at her ears. It takes less than a second for her to realize what annoying pest it belongs to and once she does Villanelle sighs heavily. She thought she had more time before things got ugly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhian, so glad you could make it to trash my party!” Villanelle replies with mock enthusiasm. “You are always such fun, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little birdy told me that it's a retirement party.” Rhian only laughs at the scowl on Villanelle’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Retirement is for boring, old people. You think ruthless killers like us ever get to retire?” Villanelle quickly changes her face to one of annoyance and disdain, not letting Rhian see the panic that’s rising in her belly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Rhian’s expression becomes serious. “We certainly do not. Come on then, Helene wants to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I don’t want to see Helene?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like you said Villanelle, no one in this life gets to retire.” Rhian reaches out as if to grab Villanelle’s arm but she doesn’t expect the blonde assassin’s quick movements. In the blink of an eye Villanelle has Rhian’s arm pinned behind her back, twisting mercilessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch me or ruin this suit and I will pull out all of your finger nails one by one!” Villanelle knows she sounds unhinged when she screams it but the damn inside of her is one good flick away from shattering completely so she doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you understand Villanelle, Helene is not asking.” The younger assassin elbows Villanelle hard, right over the scar left from Eve’s stabbing. It takes the wind out of Villanelle, making her drop her hold. Rhian is stronger than she lets on and Villanelle makes sure to remember that for next time. “Now come along and play nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A swift kick to the knee cap followed by a jab to the nose wipes the smug grin right off Rhian’s face. Villanelle can’t help but feel pleased with herself. “Like I said, I am going to a party.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A roar escapes from Rhian’s lips as she wipes the blood away that had trickled into them. From her now kneeling position, Rhian manages to trip Villanelle, catching the end of her Doc Martens so that the blonde has to catch herself on the public bench. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did I just tell you about the suit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rhian is already up, using her leverage over Villanelle’s half standing body to get Villanelle in a compromising position. She has the blonde pinned on the bench, straddling her thighs as she grunts out, “You’re really going to have to cancel your plans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle recognizes the feeling of a cold cylinder pressing into her ribs and stills under Rhian’s grasp. “Oh wow, someone is happy to see me!” Rhian digs the gun that she had pulled out from her waistband into Villanellle’s skin a little firmer, making Villanelle hiss from the pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, are you going to be a good girl or will I just have to tell Helene that my promotion is coming early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s lips curl into a small smile as she whispers seductively. “Usually I only let my lovers call me a good girl, but for you I will make an exception.” The sass is a good cover to hide her growing fear. It’s a fairly new sensation for Villanelle and she absolutely hates it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I take that as a yes you’ll come quietly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle bites her lip and nods slowly. She alters her voice to be one of innocence and whispers, “Anything to be a good girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhian rolls her eyes as she gets off of Villanelle, keeping the gun aimed at the other assassin the entire time. “They said that you would be difficult but I don’t think that quite covers it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the word you are looking for is insufferable. Devastatingly gorgeous obviously, but also insufferable.” Villanelle holds the other assassin’s gaze, mentally weighing her options. Konstantin had warned her about Helene. She has no doubt that The Twelve would be fine having Rhian shoot her right there and let her bleed out on the dimly lit London street. Not a very dignified way to go that’s for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gritting her teeth, Villanelle decides that there is no way she can risk leading Rhian and Helene right to Eve. “Okay, lead the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Rhian replies as she sighs with relief. “Let’s go, Helene is a very impatient woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awe, are we not taking the bus? I have a thing for buses you know.” Villanelle says with a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhian rolls her eyes again at Villanelle’s childish pout  when she shakes her head no and starts walking. “A train will have to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk briskly for 20 minutes until they reach the stairs to the metro, Villanelle sulks and complains loudly the whole time. Rhian does not budge the gun away from Villanelle’s rib cage. She’s grateful for the long walk though, more time to try and drag information from the young assassin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you mean by promotion?” Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Helene a number, like of The Twelve?” Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think you can ever be as good as me?” More silence</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, how long will this boring metro ride be anyways?” Villanelle trudges down the stairs, making sure to slap her feet hard against every single stone step along the way for dramatic effect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Do you ever shut up?” Rhian whines with her jaw clenched, clearly growing tired of Villanelle’s games.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, never. It is one of my best qualities. It will make for a very fun train ride!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair make their way to the platform, getting strange glances from plenty of the citizens who look up from their phones and conversations to stare at them. The attention makes Rhian tuck the gun farther under her vest, clearly not wanting anyone to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, you’re causing a scene!” Rhian manages to scream and whisper all at the same time, eyes darting in every direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can not help that I am this beautiful!” Villanelle says with a wide, mischievous smile as she does a twirl. “Perhaps if you wore nice clothes you could be beautiful too? Then everyone would look at you and not only at me.” Villanelle’s tactic is working, she can see the smoke practically coming out of Rhian’s ears with every word and it encourages her on. “Perhaps there is something beautiful underneath all of this ugly black clothing? Come on, don’t you want to show me? I can show you what a good girl I can be...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle takes her shot, reaching out with seemingly playful hands to tug at the other assassin’s black vest. She tries to open it up, get a good angle to grab the gun that is hidden there, but Rhian is quickly on to her plan. Rhian rams her forearm up, pressing with all her strength against Villanelle’s exposed neck, making her choke and sputter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just foreplay.” Villanelle manages to gasp out with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, gesturing for the sake of the few people now watching them with horror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhian leans in so close that Villanelle can feel her breath on her flushed cheeks. It smells like peppermint and coffee and makes Villanelle want to gag. “You’re pathetic Villanelle. Look at you…” Rhian sneers, venom dripping from her words. She drags Villanelle, who fiends resistance, into a nearby maintenance closet out of earshot and sight from prying eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You used to be their favorite daughter, now you can’t even snatch a gun from the newby. You’ve lost your touch!” Rhian slams her free fist into Villanelle’s left eye socket, making her head spin and pound in a familiar and unpleasant way. Ringing in her ears mixed with the loud ringing of a train leaving the station only makes it worse. “You’re nothing now, Villanelle. You mean nothing, you have nothing, you are nothing! You should have just come quietly, I hate breaking a sweat over nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s vision is suddenly bright white. At first she thinks it’s from the next punch she takes to the same eye but then she feels the rage bubbling under her skin. It seeps out of her pores like lava, burning herself and everything around her until there is nothing left. Villanelle tries to stop it, but her rage takes control of her, moving her arms so that she doesn’t have to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rage is what powers her punches, making them land one after another square on Rhian’s jaw. She feels the crack of bones under her knuckles but the bright white burning hot anger doesn’t let her stop. Blood from Rhian’s nose coats Villanelle’s hands, covering the glittery nail-polish and getting stuck in her cuticles. The rookie tries to fight back but her efforts feel like nothing more than mosquito bites now. The gun that was once in Rhian’s possession gets tossed far out of reach, landing near a mop bucket in the corner. With rage in control, Villanelle feels invincible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weaving her long fingers through auburn hair, Villanelle smashes Rhian’s head against the concrete wall, only letting go once her vision starts to come back to her. “Look what you’ve done to my clothes…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s voice is like ice and it makes Rhian cry out loud. “Please, I’m sorry for what I said! Please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every muscle in Villanelle’s body starts to shake. Blood splatters her face and her hands drip with it. The smell of copper mixed with the already unpleasant scent of the station makes Villanelle’s insides churn. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, no, no!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She runs her hands over her face and through her messy hair, having had it ripped from it’s ponytail in the struggle, not caring that more blood is getting smeared everywhere. She looks like a monster. Villanelle feels like she is a monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Rhian, it was you or me and you made me late for my date.” Villanelle’s voice sounds far away to her, like it’s being played on a radio under water. It is not her own and it makes her sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, please! Villanelle stop!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s too late. Villanelle’s trembling hands are already wrapping a nearby extension cord around the throat of the one who was supposed to take her place. She closes her eyes until the screaming and struggling stop, only opening them once Rhian lays before her limp and lifeless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” Villanelle screams at the top of her lungs, chest heaving with the effort and pain of what she’s just done. Her fists connect with anything nearby, smashing cleaning bottles and supplies all over the floor. There’s a utility sink in the corner by the mop bucket where the gun still lies and Villanelle stumbles over to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small mirror above the sink reflects a horrendous picture. Drying blood leaves a sticky trail across Villanelle’s sharp features. Her makeup is smudged and her cheek is already swelling and turning an ugly shade of purple from the fight. Villanelle grips the metal, staring at herself with disgust. For a split second rage explodes from her again and she punches the mirror until it shatters. Glass rains down around her as she sobs and her knuckles sting from the impact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood and tears circle down the drain together and Villanelle turns the sink on to try and make it stop</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She so desperately wants everything to stop. Frantically, she scrubs at her hands in an attempt to get them clean. Villanelle fights the urge to vomit again as another wave of tears rack her body. How many people has she killed? Villanelle herself can’t even fancy a guess but she knows anything less than a hundred would be too low. No, her hands will never be truly clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stays like that for a few moments, scrubbing harshly until the crying quiets down. Without a mirror anymore to guide her, Villanelle reaches into her purse and as carefully as she can, reapplies her makeup and fixes her hair. She knows it’s not the perfect goddess like look that she had achieved before this terrible run in, but it’ll have to do. When she puts her belongings back in her bag she adds the discarded gun just in case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down at her phone, Villanelle’s breath catches in her throat when she sees the time: 9:10. “Fuck!” Villanelle yells again in anguish. She bursts out of the maintenance closet, relieved to see almost no one left on the platform. She runs back up to the street and takes a second to gather her surroundings before sprinting in the direction of The Bridge Bar, desperate to get to Eve before Helene does.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As per usual, all of your amazing feed back is what keeps me going so thank you! It's safe to say that my original plan for only 5 chapters is out the window. Ch.6 will be up Friday.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. What Jacket?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You guys are seriously the best! I can not thank you enough for the wonderful comments. They make me so happy! Enjoy Ch. 6</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eve feels like an absolute idiot as she glances down at her watch for the 30th time in the last ten minutes. She takes a too large swig of her gin and tonic as the seconds tick by, pinching her eyes close as the sharp sting of the alcohol burns her throat on the way down. It’s something she’s gotten significantly more familiar with over the last year or so, both the alcohol and the feeling of being an idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slams her drink down on the bar in frustration, causing some to slosh out over the top. It spills along the counter and onto her navy blue dress adding insult to injury. “How could I be so stupid!” Eve hisses to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oye mate, don’t be too hard on yourself, it’s only a drink!” A tall woman with long red hair approaches Eve, walking over to her from the other side of the bar. The swagger in her step and sly grin on her face reminds Eve so much of Villanelle that she has to bite her lip to stifle a gasp. “Here.” The woman hands Eve a pile of napkins which she graciously accepts. “Let me buy you another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve wipes at her dress until the alcohol is only a small splotch, hardly noticeable. When she finally looks up from her task, the redhead is still grinning at her expectantly. “I’m sorry, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you spilled your drink, let me buy you another.” She twirls a red lock between her long fingers, clearly flirting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t help the shocked look that crosses over her face momentarily. Then she remembers, as if it isn’t bad enough that Villanelle stood her up, she was stood up at a gay bar on karaoke night. “Ya know what, why the hell not. Gin and tonic please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming right up.” The beautiful woman gets the attention of the bar keep and orders for them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While she’s occupied with ordering, Eve leans her back against the counter and surveys the bar again. It’s not quite Villanelle’s style, a little more low key than she assumes the assassin would like for a party, but it’s still quite elegant. The counter itself is made of dark brown wood to match the dance floor and the walls are painted a muted pearl color. What she assumes is the DJ station has been converted into a karaoke stage for the night and the wall behind it is covered in LED lights that are shaped to depict the faces of two women kissing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are a lot of people out on the floor, dancing to the upbeat music that plays in between customers singing. Rainbow colored lights shine down on them as they dance, making a beautiful kaleidoscope. The drinks are strong and good, and the overall atmosphere is one of fun and relaxation. If Eve was with Villanelle, she imagines that they would both quite like the place. But she isn’t with Villanelle, Eve reminds herself with a sigh as she sits down on the comfortable bar stool. She’s all alone, like usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Beth, it’s nice to meet you.” Well, maybe not that alone anymore. The redhead sits down next to Eve and hands her a gin and tonic which Eve takes graciously and immediately starts drinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Eve. it’s nice to meet you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t help but notice you, first because of your amazing hair, but then because you couldn’t stop looking at your watch.” Beth says with a chuckle. “Are you waiting on someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I was but…” Eve trails off as she looks at her watch again. “But she’s thirty minutes late so I don’t think she’s coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The excited glimmer in Beth’s eyes is hard to miss. “Great! Um, I mean not great, ugh I’m sorry!” Beth flushes as she fumbles over her words. “Great because that means I get to talk to you, not because you got stood up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve laughs genuinely. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Okay, um wow, sorry to get off on the wrong foot. Let me try again. Hi, I’m Beth. It’s nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two fall into an easy conversation. Beth does most of the talking and Eve is happy for the distraction. She smiles and nods at the other woman’s stories, she laughs at her jokes, and she’s even about to say yes to a dance when a familiar, strong hand grabs her arm from behind. The jolt makes her spill her drink again, thankfully avoiding her dress this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle, what the hell!” Eve whips around, pissed about her drink but even more pissed that Villanelle had the audacity to show up 45 minutes late. Eve is whole heartedly prepared to slap the assassin, but as she makes eye contact her hand falls to her side weakly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle stands before Eve panting, face flushed and chest heaving. She has to hang her head as she struggles to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry, Eve.” Villanelle manages to get out between breaths. “God, I hate running.” She says as she plops down dramatically on the other side of Eve. She puts her head in her hands and Eve stares at the remnants of blood still obvious on her cuticles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this woman bothering you?” Beth says sternly, standing up to seem imposing. Eve’s bewildered facial expression must be enough of an answer for Beth because she turns to glare at Villanelle. “That seat was taken, you need to leave the lady alone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle only laughs, letting her head rest on the dark wood in front of her. The laugh bubbles out of her mouth sounding wild and deranged, almost like a hyena. Several other patrons turn to look at her with annoyance and/or confusion and Beth’s stern expression falters in surprise. It only takes a millisecond then for Villanelle to jump out of her seat, all laughing gone. Her face looks dangerous as she gets close to the redhead, nostrils flaring and eyes wide and wild. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what to do again. I dare you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beth takes several steps backwards, looking to Eve for support. Eve jumps in between them, placing her hands on Villanelle’s chest in case she has to physically hold her back. “Villanelle, stop!” Her voice is firm and steady, the exact opposite of what she’s feeling. “Please.” Villanelle’s facial expression doesn’t change but Eve can feel muscles relaxing under her grip and takes a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve glances over her shoulder apologetically at Beth. “I’m so sorry, would you please excuse us. It was so nice talking to you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beth makes no move to stop them as Eve begins to drag Villanelle away, but she calls out, “Can I get your number?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle snarls and Eve can’t move fast enough to stop her. She grabs the phone from Eve’s dress pocket, drops it to the floor and steps on it as hard as she can. The screen snaps under her Doc Martens with a satisfying crunch and she grins like a wolf at Beth. “Sorry, she doesn’t have a phone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle!” Eve yells as she picks up the broken pieces of her phone. Beth’s jaw drops, clearly not prepared for that level of crazy, and she takes off with a huff. “Villanelle, what are you doing?” Eve rises to her feet again and pushes Villanelle back with an angry shove.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Eve, they could have been tracing it.” Villanelle whispers in her ear as her eyes dart over the crowd, having drawn a bit too much attention for her liking right now. Any other time and even more attention would have been welcome “Come on, let's go somewhere private.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t resist as Villanelle gently tugs her into the women's restroom. She kicks open the doors of each stall to make sure they are alone and locks the door behind them as Eve just watches with confusion and concern. “Villanelle, you need to tell me what’s going on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s voice is soft but stern and it breaks something inside of Villanelle. The assassin crumples, leaning on the sink for support as she catches her breath again. Eve’s small hand rubs her back over the pink suit jacket while Villanelle sucks in air. She splashes water on her face to calm down and after a minute turns to face Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I’m late. I tried to be on time but I got held up.” Villanelle pinches the bridge of her nose in an effort to remove the image that just appeared in her mind of Rhian’s dead body in a pile on the dirty maintenance closet floor. “It wasn’t pretty. I had to run all the way here from Butler Ave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From Butler!” Eve can’t hold back her surprise. “Villanelle, that’s like an hour away!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Villanelle replies proudly. She stands a little straighter again, looking more like her usual self. “I made it in 35.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus.” Eve says under her breath. She starts to pace around the bathroom, her small heels clicking the tile as she moves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Eve. I wanted to be here more than anything but...” Villanelle trails off, not knowing where to go with this since the plan she had for tonight is clearly off the rails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to tell me what’s going on. I’m not blind, I can see the blood on your nails and the stains on your jacket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What jacket?” Villanelle flings off her top, throwing it to land in one of the stalls without even a parting glance. She then clasps her hands behind her back and looks at Eve with her best charming smile. “I’m not wearing any jacket.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes all of Eve’s will power to stifle a laugh, she refuses to give Villanelle the satisfaction. Plus, Eve is more than a little distracted by the fact that Villanelle is now standing before her in only a sheer black lace tank top and very form fitting pink dress pants. The sight gives Eve chills as her eyes betray her and trace the outline of Villanelle’s figure. Her chest is still heaving slightly from running and a thin glimmer of sweat coats her exposed skin to make it look as if she is glowing. Eve fights the urge to reach out and touch, instead opting to place her hands on her hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what held you up.” Eve says while wearing her best scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle sighs and the smile falls from her lips. “Her name was Rhian. She was like me. She was sent to take me to meet this lady Helene, who is beautiful but terrible. Not as beautiful as you of course, and she is mostly just terrible, but I think Helene wants me dead. And if she doesn’t want me dead then she wants me back with The Twelve and that’s as good as dead anyways. But no need to worry, Rhian is the dead one now, and here I am, alive and late but here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You...you aren’t with The Twelve anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle nods her head no and lets her chin drop to her chest. “I don’t think so. Konstantin has been stealing from them, taking tons of money until he had enough to get us out for good. I didn’t even know until recently. He had me do a job off the books for him to help with his plan and they figured us out. If I won’t kill for them, than I am nothing to them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her shoulders start to shake slightly as she fights with all her might to keep the tears contained, but it’s beyond Villanelle’s control now. “That’s what Rhian said, that I am nothing.” Tears leak from her hazel eyes despite her protests. Villanelle balls her hands into tight fists at her sides and every muscle in her body tenses. “And she is right Eve. I am nothing! I’m just a monster! I killed-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle chokes on the words that almost slipped out. She feels as if heavy black smoke is filling her lungs once more and she is suffocating. The word ‘mother’ dies on her tongue and she settles instead on, “I’ve killed so many people, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s words echo what she said to her mother right before she killed her. They burn her throat on the way out and her skin feels as if it’s on fire after they’re said. They hang heavy in the air between her and Eve, along with unbearable anticipation. Rejection combined with the miserable woman’s unwillingness to admit the truth is what made Villanelle snap in Russia in the first place, but she knows in her heart that even if Eve rejects her now, Villanelle could never kill her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle closes her eyes, partially to further impede the tears but also so that she doesn’t have to see the look of disappointment from Eve that she’s sure is coming. She’s waiting for yelling at least, maybe even another punch. Those things are familiar to her, love is not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve stopped pacing during Villanelle’s speech, all of her attention focused on the surprisingly broken assassin before her. She feels her own eyes well with tears as Villanelle’s do, but she doesn’t try nearly as hard to keep them down. They roll down her cheeks freely, hot and furious. However, the anger behind her tears isn’t directed at Villanelle. It’s aimed squarely at The Twelve. How dare they take this beautiful creature, mold her into the perfect killing machine and then say that she is nothing? They are the ones who are nothing! This whole experience further confirms Eve’s long growing suspicion: psychopaths aren’t always born, they are made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Eve whispers softly. Kindness was the last thing Villanelle was expecting and it almost hurts more. Surprisingly strong arms wrap around Villanelle’s still shaking shoulders. They pull her slightly downward to accommodate Eve’s shorter height and press her body firmly to Eve’s. Thin fingers brush over her back, making her skin go ablaze under the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Eve whispers again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With those two words Villanelle feels as if the mess of thread she has become is being woven back together. She wonders how Eve has this power over her as she clings to the beautiful navy blue fabric around Eve’s waist. She still doesn’t think she deserves it, but Villanelle’s heart lifts a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stay like this for a while, just holding each other and ignoring the occasional knocks on the bathroom door. Once their tears have dried, Eve is the first to let go. She backs away slightly, still keeping her hands placed on Villanelle’s powerful arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you’re a monster Villanelle. Of course you’ve done bad things but so have I.” An image of Raymond flashes in both of their minds simultaneously. “But you’re not a monster. You just have one inside of you, just like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think my monster encourages your monster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I wanted it to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence falls comfortably between them as they simply stare at each other. Villanelle is surprised by the intensity of Eve’s gaze and Eve is thrilled by the vulnerability she sees looking back at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that you’re mixed up in all of this, Eve. I just want to keep you safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve smiles gently, prompting a small smile from the younger woman as well. “I want you to be safe too.” Eve lets her hands travel down Villanelle’s arms until their fingers are intertwined. “What are we going to do about Helene and The Twelve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We?” Villanelle replies with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We. It’s like you said, I am mixed up in all of this and the sooner we face it the better. So do you have a plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Konstantin does.” Villanelle says with a sigh. “He wants us to meet him Sunday night to run away but I’m not sure what the right thing to do is. I want to run away, to get as far away from this life as possible but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle lets her words hang on her tongue, uncharacteristically unsure of herself. Eve squeezes her palms gently in encouragement. “But?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I won’t run if you won’t come with me, and running with Konstantin is probably not the best idea. I spoke with Carolyn this morning. She is offering something in exchange for information. I don’t have enough right now but I know who does, and if I bring her to Carolyn maybe that will be enough for us both to be safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is touched by Villanelle’s words but she can’t help but remember how running away together last time ended. Her scar seems to burn in agreement from under the short sleeves of her dress. “I don’t know. I don’t trust Carolyn or Konstantin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t trust anyone but you, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much time do we have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Villanelle is confused but thrilled by the question. Did Eve mean just tonight or forever. Villanelle hopes it’s forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we need to leave right now, or do we have some time before Helene comes for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um?” Villanelle scrunches her nose up as she thinks and Eve can’t help but smile at how cute she looks. “I think we should be okay for tonight. It’ll be a little while before they figure out what happened. Why, what did you have in mind?” A mischievous grin forms on Villanelle’s pink painted lips and she wiggles her eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is relieved to have what seems to be the Villanelle she knows and loves back, but she’s determined to dig deeper into her injured mind later. Matching Villanelle’s smile, Eve easily replies. “Because I want you to dance with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look of horror that covers Villanelle’s face is comical. Dancing is not something she does, especially since crocodile rock, but she quickly shakes her head to shake away the unwanted flashback and smiles down at her love. In this moment, Villanelle is positive that if Eve asked her to jump off of a bridge she would do so without hesitation, and probably throw in a back flip for good measure. She would do anything and everything to make the amazing woman in front of her proud, happy, and safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay baby, lets go dance.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ch. 7 will be up Monday</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Practice Makes Perfect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is the idea that started this whole wild ride so buckle up! I'm so excited to finally share it with you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby... Villanelle called me baby!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eve had always hated little terms of endearment like baby or sweetheart, and had previously asked lovers to avoid them, not that they listened anyway. Pet names always sounded fake or infantilizing to her before, but for some reason being called ‘baby’ by Villanelle makes Eve’s knees weak. She tells herself it’s just the Russian accent, but when she looks over her shoulder at the grinning, gorgeous woman behind her, Eve knows that Villanelle could call her anything at all and Eve would still feel this dizzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their fingers stay intertwined as Eve gently tugs them out of the bathroom and towards the dance floor. She tries to keep facing forward so that Villanelle can’t see the deep blush covering her cheeks from being called baby, but she can’t help but look back at the beautiful, now former assassin. Villanelle is smiling ear to ear. Her eyes are still a bit puffy from crying but otherwise you would never be able to guess what she had just been through. There’s a small line of women waiting to use the bathroom and Villanelle winks at them as they walk by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry ladies, couldn’t wait until we got home.” This earns them several annoyed glares, a few nods of approval, and even two whistles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s blush deepens even further. She tries to look angry but only succeeds in looking amused as she squirms. “Villanelle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The former assassin somehow grins even wider. “What, one day it will be true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s jaw drops slightly but she snaps it closed quickly, not wanting to give Villanelle the satisfaction of letting her know she’s rattled. “Bold of you to assume that we will make it to that day. I think we’ll consume each other first.” Eve pinches the bridge of her nose as she realizes the implications in her choice of words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eve! Consuming each other sounds very nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve playful smacks Villanelle’s abdomen with her handbag, earning some laughs from her target. “You know what I meant!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, maybe, but that still sounds nice to me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on you asshole, lets just dance already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rainbow colored lights dance over Villanelle’s sharp features as they reach the dance floor. The swirl of colors mesmerizes Eve as she wraps her arms around the taller woman’s neck. Villanelle instinctively puts her arms around Eve’s waist. It feels incredible, like they are two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle tilts her head down so that her lips are barely brushing over Eve’s ear as she whispers, “I’m not very good at dancing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were good at everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am!” Villanelle replies with a chuckle, but Eve can hear the slight strain of nerves underneath it. “Just not very good at slow dancing, only a little good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m terrible so we’ll be a perfect match.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, perfect.” Villanelle echoes thoughtfully. She keeps her head close to Eve’s as they begin to sway gently to the music, breathing in the wonderful scent of Eve’s shampoo and something else that is uniquely Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song that’s being played is slow and dreamy, which Eve thinks is fitting because this feels like a dream to her. Who knew that when she first started investigating Villanelle’s work two years before they even met that this is where they would end up? With Villanelle, Eve had her highest highs and her lowest lows, and surprisingly there is nothing that Eve would change about the journey because it led them here. Well, except for Bill, Kenny, and Niko; Eve would change their fates in a heartbeat if she could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Eve? You looked far away for a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh, yeah I’m okay. More than okay in fact.” Eve smiles up at Villanelle who only crinkles her eyebrows together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? You don’t want to leave do you?” Villanelle looks scared, genuinely scared, and it makes Eve’s heart race. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Not at all.” Eve answers quickly and firmly, only slightly easing the distress on Villanelle’s face. Eve sighs and tightens her grip around Villanelle’s neck. “I was thinking about everything that happened along the way to get us here. I remembered the last time we were in a club together was when you, ya know, when Bill died, and now Kenny’s gone too and we still don’t know who did that, and Niko got pitchforked last week and we don’t know who did that either-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve cuts herself off from rambling on, biting her lip and glancing her eyes down to avoid Villanelle’s gaze. The last thing she meant to bring up was Niko and now Eve’s scared that she’s ruined the whole night. “Vil-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Villanelle interrupts before Eve can go on. “I’m sorry about Bill. I should have said that sooner. He was following me and had seen my face and well, I probably could have escaped but…” Villanelle takes her hands off of Eve’s hips and stares at her own palms. “I’m sorry Eve. I promise I won’t hurt anyone you care about again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point in their relationship, Eve is confident that she can tell when Villanelle is lying and when she is being genuine. Eve is touched by the sincerity she hears in Villanelle’s voice. “Thank you, and I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait?” Villanelle quickly looks up from her hands, eyebrows arched in surprise. “What happened to Mustache?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mustache? Oh, we were in Poland and someone tried to kill Niko. They stabbed him in the neck with a pitchfork and tried to blame it on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you know it wasn’t me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! They did mimic your flare for the dramatic but I just knew it wasn’t you. Clearly someone was trying to come between us, but it didn’t work now did it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle smiles, the last remnants of concern drifting away from her face as she presses herself close to Eve again. “Nope, what a failure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slow song that the pair had been swaying to ends and a much faster beat washes over the bar. The rainbow lights begin to strobe as more people come out onto the dance floor. Villanelle gives Eve a cocky, half smile and leans in again,”Now this kind of dancing I am much better at.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without warning, Villanelle twirls Eve around in a circle. She laughs at Eve’s surprise and takes advantage of it by pressing their bodies even closer together. Villanelle sways her hips to the beat and lets her hands wander up and down Eve’s sides. She can’t take her eyes off of the newly exposed expanse of skin that is revealed by her ministrations as the soft navy blue fabric rides up Eve’s leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman moves almost stiffly at first, not used to dancing at all, let alone in such a provocative way, but under Villanelle’s touch she melts. Eve lets the music take control of her body, moving her hips in time with Villanelle and letting her hands wander as well. She’s out of breath from the thrill of it, not the physical exertion, and Eve can feel her heart beating in time with the base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle then spins herself around, facing away from Eve and towards the rest of the packed dance floor. Her blonde ponytail tickles Eve’s cheeks as the younger woman slides herself down so that her ass is pressed firmly to the front of Eve’s dress. The contact makes Eve gasp and she rolls her hips involuntarily, seeking out even more contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle practically purrs at Eve’s reaction, thoroughly enjoying it. She grinds further back against Eve and lifts one arm up to wrap around Eve’s neck. Her fingers brush through wild brown locks and it makes them both moan at the contact. Eve tilts her head back into Villanelle’s grasp and moves her own hands to Villanelle’s hips, gripping tightly enough to hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slight sting of Eve’s nails only adds fuel to the growing fire inside Villanelle. She tries to remember when anything at all ever felt this good but only comes up with getting punched, kissed, then headbutted by Eve on the bus. The memory of Eve’s lips on hers makes Villanelle dizzy. She’s been with many people, men, women, and some that identify as neither or both, but no one has come even close to making her feel the way that Eve does. And they haven’t even gone to bed yet!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like Eve is this blinding light and Villanelle is a hopeless moth drawn to her brilliance. Eve knows just what to say, just how to touch her, to make Villanelle’s body and mind light up. Not even Anna ever held this power over her. So Villanelle moves, drawn even further towards Eve’s glow, and dances until she’s not sure where her body ends and Eve’s begins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fast, upbeat music continues for several more songs. The tight crowd of bodies move to the rhythm and Villanelle and Eve are at the center of it. They are a flurry of hands and hips, both sets of eyes squeezed closed with excitement. Neither want the moment to end but the music slowly comes to a stop as a man who looks like he does calculus for fun gets onto the stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright mates, time to open up more karaoke for the night! Who’s first then?”  A bubbly blonde close to the stage raises her hand and jumps up and down eagerly. “Come on up! Everyone else, enjoy the music and put your name and song in the book to have a turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During the exchange, Villanelle turns herself around to face Eve again. She’s careful in her movements to keep their bodies touching at all times, desperate to maintain contact. The sight greeting her makes her practically swoon. Eve’s hair looks like a lion’s mane, all tousled and crazed from dancing, and her chocolate eyes have blown pupils. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, earning Villanelle’s attention before her eyes settle to rest on full, red lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I need a drink.” Eve whispers breathily. She intertwines her fingers with the younger woman’s again and slowly brings their clasped hands to rest over her chin. Eve brushes her lips over Villanelle’s long, slender fingers before kissing her thumb. From that one little touch Villanelle feels a jolt of electricity run through her body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gin and tonic right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s lips are still touching Villanelle’s thumb ever so slightly. While maintaining eye contact, she parts her lips and bites down firmly but not with nearly enough force to break skin. Villanelle gulps, body tingling head to toe now. “How did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I pay attention to you, baby.” Baby. There it is again. With that one word Eve closes her eyes and tries to keep her knees from visibly trembling. There is a tone of amusement in Villanelle’s voice as she speaks again, clearly picking up on the reaction. “Now, let's go get you that drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leads the way this time, walking with an air of confidence and swagger. She quickly orders a gin and tonic for her partner and a vodka on the rocks for herself. They sit down at a little booth off to the side of The Bridge Bar, knees touching under the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vodka on the rocks?” Eve says after taking a long sip of her drink. “How very Russian of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle only shrugs, looking down into the clear liquid and watching the ice clink together as she swirls it. “I’m not a big drinker. I don’t like feeling out of control.” Out of control is the majority of what she’s been feeling since leaving Russia behind, except for when she’s with Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve just nods, sensing the change in Villanelle and not wanting to upset her. She decides to change the subject, “By the way, why did you pick this place? Didn’t you say you had something to show me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle swallows hard and glances over at the karaoke stage, inadvertently giving herself away. “Um, no reason in particular. I liked the rainbow lights and pictures of women kissing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t help the grin that spreads across her cheeks. “Oh my god, can you sing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Villanelle answers way too quickly. She takes a long swig of her vodka then, grimacing at the burn in her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were good at everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle shrugs and retorts quickly, clearly trying to avoid the question, “Can you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only after about 3 more of these.” Eve holds up her glass and smiles again, making Villanelle chuckle. “The first time I met Carolyn I was hungover after karaoke. The night before the whole office had drank way too much and sang until 3am to celebrate Bill’s birthday. They called me that morning to come in and I had the worst headache of my life!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve laughs easily and has some more of her gin before continuing. Villanelle smiles back and listens intently, glad that their conversation is off of her singing ability and just happy to listen to Eve’s voice. “The case that they called me in for was yours. That sex trafficker that you murdered in Vienna by cutting his femoral artery without him even noticing. Do you remember that one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember them all, Eve.” Villanelle answers with a slightly heavy tone to her voice, but she takes another sip of the vodka and quickly adds more lightly, “But of course I remember that one; it’s what brought us together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods quickly and smiles. “I mean he was a sex trafficker, he had it coming, but you left his girlfriend alive. Did you know then, when you first saw me in the hospital bathroom the night you came back for her that this would happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Villanelle says truthfully. “I mean I masturbated to you that night after I got cleaned up. I drew a picture of you, well just your hair really, and came so hard.” Eve chokes on her drink. ‘Too much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I'm just surprised. I mean you didn’t even know who I was then, right, that I was hunting you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t. But why are you surprised? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Eve. I’m sure many people have masturbated while thinking about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve blushes a deep red and it is so beautiful to Villanelle that her heart skips a beat. The older woman self consciously twirls a lock of her dark hair through her fingers and looks down at the table. “Clearly, you’ve never looked in a mirror then.” Villanelle grins ear to ear as she stands up from the table. “Hey, where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the bathroom, someone said I should look in the mirror. Plus I need to pee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Villanelle doesn’t go to the bathroom. She weaves through the crowd, making sure Eve can’t see her, and writes her name and song choice in the book. She stops and pickles up another drink for each of them, deciding that she will need just a bit more liquid courage to go through with this, before making her way back to Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is waiting at the booth, finishing the last of her gin and tonic. Villanelle just watches her for a moment, wondering how someone so beautiful can even exist in the first place, before sitting down. Their thighs are pressed together then and both try to ignore the growing heat between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took so long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bartender said that gin and tonic is an old person drink so he needed to look up how to make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did not!” Eve laughs incredulously and lightly hits Villanelle in the stomach with the back of her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but it is an old person drink.” Villanelle nearly chokes on her vodka then as Eve moves her hand away, brushing over her scar while departing. “Do you regret stabbing me?” Villanelle blurts out, fueled by the tingling over her raised skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve bites her lip, thinking for a long moment before replying. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Villanelle’s grin is positively wolfish. “It’s my favorite scar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve wonders just how many scars are hidden under the blonde’s very stylish clothing. She shivers as she thinks that one day, hopefully soon, she’ll find out. “Do you regret shooting me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Villanelle says softly without hesitation. “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answering is surprising to Eve so she presses for more. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Rome, I thought I owned you. That’s what I thought love was. Obsession became the need to possess and I was drunk from it. Then when you rejected me and I realized that I couldn’t own you like I wanted to, I snapped. I’m sorry Eve. I just… I just thought that if I couldn’t have you then no one should. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle frantically searches Eve’s face for some form of reassurance. Being honest and open is practically painful for Villanelle given that it’s an entirely new experience, and she desperately wants Eve to reply. Eve just watches Villanelle for a minute though, stunned by her honesty and apology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t regret it.” Eve finally says quietly. “I wanted to hate you after. I was so fucking angry every day while I was recovering. I wanted to curse you, to kill you, to see your beautiful stupid face again. But at the end of the day I wasn’t really angry at you, I was angry at myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is dumb, Eve. You should have been angry at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know! I wish I was but…” Eve throws up her hands as if in surrender. “I wasn’t. Now if you had killed me, well that would be a different story. I would be haunting your ass for the rest of eternity!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle laughs at that and smiles. “I’m sure you would be a terrifying ghost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both finish their drinks, feeling a little more carefree thanks to the alcohol. Villanelle can't help but nervously glance at the stage now and again, anxious for her approaching turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Eve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I walked away right now, would you shoot me again?” Eve doesn’t look scared as she asks, only contemplative and intrigued. Villanelle is stung by the question and opens her mouth to answer. Just as she’s about to speak, her name is called from the karaoke stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright ladies, give a round of applause to our next guest, Villanelle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of their eyes go wide and Eve’s jaw drops. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think there is another Villanelle here?” The younger woman says with a nervous giggle. She stands up straight, smooths her top, and grins mischievously. “Come on, come get a better view at the front.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve thinks it’s like a switch is flipped inside Villanelle. The former assassin’s nerves seem to evaporate and suddenly she is confident and cocky. Her half smile is one of arrogance and she walks with grace up to the stage. Eve just follows her, dumbstruck, wondering how Villanelle can manage to transform into show mode so effortlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only looks effortless though. Inside, Villanelle is freaking out. She’s using all of her training to put on a face of confidence but anxiety is still running wild in the pit of her stomach; especially after Eve’s last question. Villanelle steps onto the stage and takes the microphone. She holds it in front of her pink, smiling lips, and looks only at Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is for you, Eve. I may not be the greatest at expressing myself in any way other than violence, but this song says it all for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle flutters her eyes closed and takes a deep breath. The beautiful melody that has become sacred to her begins to play and she opens her eyes again, only focusing on Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>I’ve tried to leave it all behind me, but I woke up and there they were beside me. And I don't believe it but I guess it's true: some feelings, they can travel too.</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve truly didn’t know that anything could sound this beautiful. She stands in front of the stage stunned, feet rooted to the spot and mouth hanging agape. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>“Oh there it is again, sitting on my chest, makes it hard to catch my breath. I scramble for the light to change.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle glides across the stage effortlessly, like she was born to be up there. All the while her gaze is fixed on Eve who can do nothing but stare back. Desire, excitement, and longing all begin to build in the older woman’s chest as Villanelle sings. Her voice is like honey, smooth and sweet, but also powerful and commanding. “</span>
  <b>You’re always on my mind. You’re always on my mind…” </b>
  <span>Those lines echo Eve’s own feelings and her breath catches in her throat. This must be a dream, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>And I never minded being on my own. Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home, to be where you are. But even closer to you, you seem so very far! And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing. And I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind, wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear, tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything falls away for Villanelle except Eve. Eve is her past, present, and hopefully future. She is the sun, the moon, and the stars. She is her home. Villanelle pours all of her emotions into her voice, emotions that she didn’t even know she was capable of, and sings her heart out, hoping that Eve can feel it too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>And if I stay home, I don't know, there'll be so much that I'll have to let go. You're disappearing all the time. But I still see you in the light. For you, the shadows fight. And it's beautiful but there's that tug in the sight, I must stop time traveling. You're always on my mind. You’re always on my mind.</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle belts out the chorus again and she hears the rushing of her blood in her ears, even over the loud music. Her heart is racing, her skin is practically on fire, and her muscles ache with need to touch Eve. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This has to work, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Villanelle thinks to herself as she continues to sing</span>
  <em>
    <span>; I need to make her understand how I feel. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As she starts the chorus for the final time, inspiration strikes and Villanelle slightly alters the lyrics. “</span>
  <b>I’m reaching out with every note I sing. And I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind, wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear, tells you that I LOVE you and I wish that you were here.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Haunting piano and drums slowly fade into the space between them. An eruption of applause and cheers comes from the crowd, but Villanelle can hardly hear them. She can only hear the raspiness of her own breathing and the pounding in her chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She curtseys, eyes still locked on Eve’s, and leaves the microphone on top of the speakers. Villanelle jumps down from the stage, blatantly ignoring the few steps, and lands only inches from Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s hands are trembling and her muscles are tense. She stares up at Villanelle with what can only be described as wonder. “You can really sing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle chuckles despite feeling raw and exposed. “I guess so. Practice makes perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve slowly bridges the small gap between them. She brings one hand up to cup Villanelle’s cheek and uses her thumb to caress the slightly purple skin there under her left eye. “I don’t think it’s fair that you get to be so good at so many things. Your voice…” Eve sighs dreamily, “For someone so devilish, you have the voice of an angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans into the touch. She looks the beautiful woman before her and up down, eyes stopping to hover over her left shoulder where just under navy blue fabric hides a large scar. “Eve, do you want this to stop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Eve replies with shock, shaking her head in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can leave right now if you want to. I won’t stop you. I won’t shoot you. You can go into witness protection or something with MI6 and you’ll be safe. You can have a happy, quiet, safe life and never have to worry about me again. I promise I won’t follow you or try to find you. You can walk away right now and this will all be over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Eve says without hesitation. Her voice is firm but has an underlying twing of pain. “No, Villanelle. When I try to picture my future, all I see is your face over and over again. I won’t walk away from this.” Eve brings her other hand to lay over Villanelle’s chest. She feels the rise and fall of her love’s now rapid breathing under her palm and shudders. “I want to try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to try too.” Villanelle’s voice is only a whisper but it’s all Eve can hear. Her spirits soar at the admission and she lets herself think that maybe, just maybe, this could actually work. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can not to hurt you again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, baby.” Now it’s Villanelle’s turn to go weak at the pet name. She can’t remember anyone ever calling her something so tender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans in closer, pink lips just inches away from Eve’s red ones. She breathes in deeply as stray chocolate locks tickle her nose. After all this time, Eve still wears it, La Villanelle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you liked my song then?” Villanelle says with a glimmer in her eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I loved it!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, everything falls into place. Villanelle’s lips are like clouds that carry Eve far away. Her long fingers weave through Eve’s dark locks, pulling them impossibly close to deepen the kiss. Flushed skin, soft lips, and probing tongues dance together so easily that it’s like they’ve done this a million times before. It feels familiar and beautiful and exhilarating! It feels like coming home. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So what do you think? Ch. 8 will be posted Wednesday.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Worship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>THIS CHAPTER IS EXPLICIT! If you do not want to read an explicit sex scene please do not read this chapter. So far things have been a steamy PG13 but this is NC17 folks. You will not be missing any plot at all by waiting for chapter 9 (which will be posted Friday)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The taxi ride to Eve’s apartment is agonizingly long. Street lights go by in a blur, casting bright glares against the black sky and illuminating Villanelle’s soft blonde hair in passing. All of the young woman’s features seem to be enhanced by the contrast of light and dark inside the little cab, and Eve is mesmerized by it. She thinks it fits Villanelle well, light and dark coming together to form something so beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can’t take her eyes, or her hands, off of Eve either. She sits so that she’s facing the older woman with one leg propped up on the seat. Her fingers of one hand play with the ends of Eve’s perfect wavy hair while the other lightly caresses the inside of Eve’s thigh. Eve arches into the touch. She wants more, needs more, but Eve knows that more will come soon enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t say anything for the entire car ride, opting instead for longing glances and wandering hands. Villanelle has the taxi door open before it even comes to a halt in front of the old building. She throws some cash at the driver who takes it without making eye contact, clearly uncomfortable by the women’s affection, and then helps Eve out of the cab quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night air is cold, making goosebumps form to cover Eve’s exposed skin. However, the cold isn’t the only reason why Eve is shivering. Villanelle’s hand rests on the small of her back, guiding her briskly into the building and to the elevator. Thankfully the doors open immediately and the pair are the only two inside. Once the metal doors close with a loud clink, Villanelle stops trying to control her intense desires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve finds herself pinned to the back wall of the elevator. The hand rail digs into her lower back, sending a sharp pain up her spine, but it is nothing compared to the unbearable pleasure washing over the rest of her body. Villanelle is gripping her hips, having slid her hands under the dress, like they’re the only thing keeping her feet on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for coming tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t show.” Eve can barely nod in response as their kisses deepen, stoking the fire between Eve’s trembling legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elevator door opens before they can get much further. The two women hurry down the hallway, giggling and blushing the whole way. Their fingers are intertwined until they reach Eve’s door. She has to dig in her purse to find the key and Villanelle hums impatiently. Once Eve gets the door open, Villanelle’s strong arms are wrapped around her waist and Eve finds herself being carried inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if Eve weighs nothing more than a sack of potatoes, Villanelle easily kicks the door closed behind them and holds Eve against it’s wooden frame. “You are so beautiful, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s heart is pounding in her chest as she leans in and kisses the blonde woman deeply. Villanelle’s  lips are impossibly soft and move with purpose against Eve’s. Her tongue eagerly slips inside. Villanelle’s head swims with the taste and scent of her lover. It is a head rush that she’s sure she will feel even after the thousandth time they kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tangling her fingers in Eve’s beautiful chocolate locks, Villanelle pulls her even closer so that their bodies are fully flushed together. Villanelle gasps between kisses as Eve’s hands slip under her thin black tank top, caressing Villanelle’s heated skin. Villanelle’s voice is low and husky, practically purring as she says, ”Consume me, Eve.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle knows she sounds needy, but her voice still maintains some semblance of  command and power. That combination of longing and demand makes Eve helpless to disobey. She makes quick work of removing the tank top and pink slacks that are hiding far too much of Villanelle’s skin, and then takes a second to marvel at the sight before her. Villanelle’s chest is heaving. The pale skin of her neck and cheeks are flushed rosey from arousal. Her hazel eyes are much darker than their usual light shade, and her pupils are blown wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, Eve’s dress is in a pile on the floor and Villanelle is kissing her neck again. Her tongue falls hot and wet on Eve’s skin, sucking and nipping up to her ear lobe. Eve arches into the touch, her own hands coming around to caress Villanelle’s breasts. She delights in the soft weight of them and shivers when her thumbs brushes over stiffened nipples. At the touch, Villanelle bites down on her pulse point, eliciting a loud moan from the older woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘’So, so beautiful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve had imagined this moment more often than she cared to admit. How many times had she closed her eyes while picturing these exact actions and that perfect Russian accent? The number is too high to count. But nothing compares to the real thing. Villanelle is so strong and powerful, yet somehow still gentle and passionate. Eve is intoxicated by everything that Villanelle is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Effortlessly, Villanelle picks Eve up again. She twirls Eve around with a look that is somehow both predatory and loving. The motion makes Eve’s knees go weak and a fresh wave of desire settles low in her belly. With surprising agility, Villanelle makes it past the various obstacles of clutter and over to the bed. She practically throws Eve down on top of the duvet, unable to contain her enthusiasm. Eve’s hair splays out in a mess beneath her and Villanelle brings one hand up to smooth it behind her ear as she settles on top of Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure this is what you want? You’re not drunk right?” Villanelle watches Eve carefully. Her senses seem attuned to every small motion Eve makes, every little quiver of her lip and tremble in her legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not drunk and dear god I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything!” The intensity in her voice even surprises Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without any more hesitation, Villanelle swoops in to capture Eve in another crushing kiss. Then it’s like Villanelle is everywhere all at once. Eve is drowning in frantic touches, soft lips, and breathy moans. She feels like she might just die, but if it kills her, at least she will die happy. Villanelle’s well practiced fingers easily slide Eve’s underwear off in one fluid motion, and Eve kicks them off the bed to land in another pile on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second Eve feels self conscious. She glances down at her body, not nearly as fit as Villanelle’s, and starts to worry. She hasn’t had to worry about pleasing anyone other than Niko for a long time, especially never a woman before. Would she be good at it? Villanelle clearly has quite the resume’ when it comes to bedroom conquests, can Eve even hope to compare?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of her fears and racing thoughts are eased by the adoring gaze she sees staring down at her from her lover. “Eve, you are truly a goddess.” Villanelle says it with such reverence and delight that it makes Eve’s worries melt away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, Eve is a goddess in Villanelle’s eyes, and she plans to worship. Villanelle starts back at Eve’s lips, kissing the Asain woman deeply once more. Next, she trails her lips down Eve’s neck to her collar bones. She spends some time kissing the skin over her right collar bone, before moving on the left. Just below Eve’s left shoulder lies her scar. The flesh is raised, bumpy, and darker than the rest of her skin. Villanelle traces it with her fingertip first, then her lips. She bites down gently, sending sparks of electricity through Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve arches her back up on the bed and her hips rock up to meet Villanelle’s. The sound of both of their moans fill the little space between them beautifully. Villanelle continues to lick and kiss at the scar, while her hands massage Eve’s breasts until her nipples are standing at attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Eve is squirming, gasping from the growing pressure between her legs, Villanelle begins mapping the lower curves of Eve’s body. She commits every angel to memory, every freckle and every soft spot that makes Eve moan, just in case this is the only night they have to share. A part of Villanelle is still terrified that she will wake up in the morning to an empty bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me that you’ll never leave me, baby.” Villanelle whispers breathily. Her mouth is hovering over Eve’s center, tongue only an inch away. She looks up with big, pleading eyes and Eve stares back at her through hooded lids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s hands run through Villanelle’s blonde locks, subconsciously tugging the younger woman closer. “I won’t leave you, Villanelle. There’s no going back.” There really is no going back after this. Eve knows that once she lets Villanelle take her like this, she will belong to the other woman in body, mind, and soul. And Eve can’t wait. “Please baby, touch me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle looks like an apex predator as she finally lowers her head to devour her prey. She breathes in the delicious scent of Eve, hands caressing her inner thighs, and it makes her mouth water. Agonizingly slowly, Villanelle extends her tongue and licks the entire length of Eve’s dripping wet slit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle!” Eve’s moans her name in a far deeper tone than usual and it sends shivers down Villanelle’s spine and straight to her core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tongue easily finds Eve’s already swollen clit and begins to flick the nub back and forth. She dances her tongue over Eve expertly, like she already knows every inch of her lover’’s body. Villanelle spells out her name over Eve’s clit, making the older woman moan loudly. The act is deeply erotic to Villanelle, who finds herself spelling her own name out again and again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just labeling what’s mine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle uses two fingers to circle Eve’s opening, gathering the wetness there before sliding inside. Eve’s walls are slick and silky, already clamping down hard against Villanelle’s long fingers. The blonde takes a moment to relish the experience of entering Eve for the first time, closing her eyes and curling her fingers, before beginning to pump in and out slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first Villanelle is gentle with her ministrations, but as Eve’s moans get louder and the grip on her hair tightens, Villanelle picks up the pace. She sucks Eve’s engorged clit between her lips, still using her tongue to flick up and down. She adds a third finger to Eve’s pulsating wetness, pumping harder and faster with each thrust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle, oh my god! Please don’t stop!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle never wants to stop. She could stay in bed with Eve for the rest of her life and be perfectly happy. Villanelle moans, causing little vibrations to flow through Eve. Between the extra stimulation to her clit and Villanelle’s third finger filling her up, Eve knows she won’t last much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s knees involuntarily clamp down, holding Villanelle’s head in place as Eve writhes beneath her. Her fingers grip Villanelle’s hair so tightly it must hurt, but Eve is too far gone to care. Villanelle is relentless in her movements, curling her fingers up with each thrust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me as you cum, baby.” Villanelle hums against Eve’s sensitive skin before returning her tongue to swirling mercilessly over Eve’s clit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve forces her eyes open and looks down at the gorgeous woman before her. Villanelle’s blonde hair is draped around Eve’s hips and the one arm that is not fucking her is wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. She stares up at Eve, never breaking eye contact as her fingers move like magic inside of her lover. Villanelle’s eyes are almost black from her heightened state of arousal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s too much for Eve. As she meets Villanelle’s gaze, and those long fingers curl expertly into the spongy patch of skin hidden deep inside her, Eve cums. Wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure surges through Eve from head to toe. Her entire body shakes from the force of it, clamping down even harder to keep the younger woman pressed close. “Villanelle!” Eve screams out into the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is positive that her name has never sounded better than it does right now, being screamed by Eve in the throws of passion. Eve is her religion now, and Villanelle vows to serve her new goddess well. She laps at the crash of wetness that floods from Eve diligently, savoring every drop, making sure none goes to waste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like an hour to Eve before her frayed nerve endings finally begin to settle. However, it’s really only a few minutes before she loosens her grip on Villanelle’s hair and her legs fall limp to her sides. Villanelle drops her head to rest against the inside of Eve’s thigh for a minute, catching her breath as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle then places gentle, wet kisses up the length of Eve’s body until she reaches the other woman’s lips. Eve tastes herself as they kiss, sweet yet salty, and begins to wonder what Villanelle tastes like. She’s sure it will be her new favorite flavor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re incredible, Villanelle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle practically beams with pride and presses her forehead against Eve’s. “So I’ve been told.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both chuckle at that and Eve wraps her arms around Villanelle, marveling at the definition of the muscles she feels on her back. “And so humble too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Using all the strength she can muster, which isn’t much after that earth shattering orgasm she just had, Eve manages to flip them over so that she is on top. Her actions are not nearly as smooth as Villanelle’s but they’re effective. Villanelle raises an eyebrow at her lover in surprise and smiles coyly. Eve gently caresses Villanelle’s cheek, running her thumb over the purple bruise left by her fight with Rhian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve pulls back slightly, unsure of herself again. “I’ve never…” Eve says while biting her lip. “What do you like?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle reaches up and tugs gently at Eve’s dark locks, pulling her in for another kiss. “You can do whatever you want to me, Eve. I’m all yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spend the rest of the night wrapped up like this, a beautiful tangle of limbs and kisses. They explore each other until every inch of skin has become known. They give and take until the moon is high in the dark night sky and there is nothing left of either of them.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now that I've taken a cold shower, what do you guys think? Do you want more chapters like this sprinkled throughout the rest of the fic, or would you prefer them posted separately? I really want your feedback on this! And as always, thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Everything I Want</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can not thank you all enough for the amazing response to my last chapter! Since I enjoyed writing it and clearly you enjoyed reading it, I've decided to add more chapters like that throughout this story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hazy morning sun filters in through the cracks in the window blinds besides Eve’s bed. It dances across her skin, making beautiful patterns on her cheeks that Villanelle’s fingers can’t help but trace. She is very gentle, only barely brushing the exposed skin before her, using just her fingertips so that the other woman doesn’t wake up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t know how long she’s been doing this, several hours at least, and she has no intention of stopping any time soon. She never truly let herself imagine being like this with Eve; it was a dangerous wish that seemed destined to end in heartbreak. But now that she is here, lying beside the woman she loves, Villanelle is desperate to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun seems to make Eve’s skin glow. It’s absolutely enchanting and Villanelle bites her lip as she continues to admire her lover. Eve has the duvet tucked under her chin and her messy hair is splayed out across the pillow and partially on Villanelle’s cheek as well. She’s snoring softly, happy little peaceful noises, thankfully not freight train horns, and a thin line of drool travels down her chin. Villanelle is sure that she has never seen anyone look so content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, Villanelle glides her fingertips down away from Eve’s face and lets them slip under the covers. They travel over Eve’s curves until they reach her hip and Villanelle leaves her palm resting there. She can feel the heat radiating from Eve’s skin and sighs softly. This feels a lot like heaven for someone who is most definitely going to hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve stirs slightly under Villanelle’s touch. She had unintentionally begun to grip Eve harder and it spurred the older woman to roll over so that she is now facing Villanelle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you awake?” Eve’s voice is raspy and still full of sleep. She fights against her heavy eyelids to peer at Villanelle. “What time is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh.” Villanelle brings her hand back up from under the duvet and gently strokes Eve’s hair. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Definitely not one to reject an opportunity for more sleep, Eve eagerly closes her eyes again. She cuddles into Villanelle, finding comfort in the younger woman’s presence. She listens to the rhythm of Villanelle’s heartbeat, feels the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and is quickly lulled back to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle on the other hand, can not sleep. She doesn’t even close her eyes to try, she just keeps staring at the beautiful woman now curled up in her arms. She breathes in deeply, relishing the scent of wonderful perfume, something that is uniquely Eve, and that specific smell that can only be described as warm comfort. Eve fills all of Villanelle’s senses and she decides that is far better than dreaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning sun lazily travels farther up into the sky, casting more dancing beams over the pair. Villanelle waits until the light is too unbearable in her eyes to get up. Extremely carefully, she extracts herself from the bed so as not to wake Eve. Her bare feet are cold on the tile of Eve’s tiny apartment and goosebumps cover her arms. She had fallen asleep naked so she is quite cold now that the warm bed is behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle slips on her previously discarded pink panties and then rummages as silently as possible through Eve’s woefully limited closet. She settles on a university hoodie, holding it up to her nose and breathing in deeply before putting it over her head. It is comfortable but a little short on her longer torso, and the sleeves only just barely reach her wrists. Villanelle chuckles as she sees herself in the mirror. It’s perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle makes her way over the small kitchen section of the studio apartment  while smiling. She puts on a pot of coffee to brew and looks for something to make for breakfast. There’s not much to choose from. Eve clearly hasn’t been here for a while and a lot of what is in the refrigerator has gone sour. Thankfully, there are a few eggs, an onion, and a red pepper that are usable so Villanelle gets to work creating a masterpiece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the smell of fresh coffee that finally rouses Eve from sleep. She rolls over in bed, yawns and stretches like a cat. She smiles widely at the picture that greets her tired eyes. It is one of pure bliss. Villanelle is smiling back at her, holding out a cup of black coffee and sitting on the edge of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning sleepy head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning.” Eve says through another yawn as she sits up. She graciously takes the outstretched mug and brings the delicious liquid to her lips. “Mmm, thank you. Hey, is that my sweater?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle glances down at the clearly worm and well loved garment, tugging at the sleeves with a mischievous grin. “Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks good on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything looks good on me, Eve.” Villanelle says with a smirk as she stands up. Pretty pink underwear is still the only thing covering her lower half as she walks back to the kitchen. She can feel Eve’s gaze on her exposed skin and is sure to sway her hips for good measure. “Like what you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to borrow a pair of shorts too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle puts on a dramatic pout. “Is that a no? I thought pink was my color.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve rolls her eyes and bites her lip. “No, of course I like what I see you asshole. After last night I didn’t think you had to ask. I just thought maybe you were cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is back to grinning. “Not with you to keep me warm.” She beckons Eve over with a curling finger. The older woman puts on an over sized t-shirt and a pair of grey shorts before going to the kitchen. She is enticed by the beautiful, half naked woman, but also by the delicious smells emanating from the stove. “I made breakfast.” Villanelle says proudly, as if reading Eve’s mind. “We really worked up an appetite last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Eve gestures to her poorly stocked refrigerator. “It’s a wonder you found anything usable in there. I’ve been staying at work since your little stuffed bear stunt so forgive the mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was silly of you, Eve. If I knew where you lived, what makes you think I didn’t know where you worked too?” Villanelle serves Eve the most delicious looking omelette she’s ever seen in her life. Her mouth waters at the sight of it and she eagerly tucks in. Villanelle sits opposite her at the small table and begins to eat as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, this is good!” Eve says through a mouthful of food. “So, do you know where I work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve only chuckles and shakes her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“So, why were you up so early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you snore, very, very loudly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not!” Eve replies indignantly, making Villanelle laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you really do Eve! It was like a thunderstorm in here.” The playful gleam in Villanelle’s eyes gives away that she’s lying, sparking curiosity from Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, tell me the real reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle pouts, suddenly looking a little self conscious. She looks down at her food to avert Eve’s intense gaze. “Well, you do snore, but more like a kitten than a thunderstorm. I did sleep for a bit. I just woke up early, restless mind I guess, and I saw you sleeping. You looked so beautiful and peaceful that I couldn’t look away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s cheeks turn rosey with blush for what feels like the thousandth time in the last 24 hours. She thinks to herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how can someone who is so ruthless also be this romantic and cute? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She almost says it out-loud but is interrupted by Villanelle’s voice before she can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is the heart I left you? I squeezed the bear, but she didn’t speak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve blush deepens and she points to her purse. “It’s in there. I uh, take it with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s eyes widen in surprise and her grin returns to one of mischief. “Oh Eve, my heart is always with you! No matter what. You don’t need to carry it around like some love sick puppy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t help but giggle. Sometimes she does feel like a love sick puppy. “Finish your food, asshole. We have work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The work ends up being unbelievably boring. Well, in Villanelle’s opinion at least. They spend the rest of the morning sitting side by side on Eve’s small, tan couch conducting research. The fabric is itchy and the cushions are lumpy, but they are knee to knee and every time they bump into each other Eve’s heart skips a beat. That part isn’t boring to either of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve does her best to focus on her computer screen but with Villanelle so close it’s a challenge. Still, she powers on, fingers feverishly typing and clicking away. Villanelle is reading through reports and case files that Eve may or may not have liberated (stollen) from MI6. Between the two of them, they try to piece together as much of the puzzle of The Twelve as possible.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As early afternoon rolls around, Villanelle flips through the file on Niko’s attack. She doesn’t flinch when she sees the copious amount of blood covering the dirt and straw, but she does wince when she sees the note. The scribbly handwriting is instantly familiar to her. “Eve.” Villanelle gently shakes Eve’s shoulder. “I think I know who tried to kill Niko.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This quickly gets Eve’s attention and she swivels around, dropping her computer on the coffee table to focus on Villanelle. “Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember that kill I staged for you with the spices? Did you ever figure out why I did that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, not why it was that person in particular but I think I got the message. I found the original kill you copied, that gymnast in Russia. The primary suspect for that was another gymnast named Dasha but they could never prove it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s eyes light up while Eve speaks. She doesn’t like the slightly queasy feeling in her stomach from reminiscing about the kill, but she’s thrilled that Eve was able to put the pieces together. “Exactly! I was trying to lead you to Dasha. She’s a handler for The Twelve who trained me with Konstantin after prison. One of the things she made me do when I was young was go get her groceries. She treated me like an errand girl and I hated it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound like very intense training to me, getting groceries. And what does she have to do with Niko?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every Sunday she would write me a list so I didn’t forget anything. She would purposefully leave things off though so when I returned without them she could hit me. Anyway, I know her handwriting.” Villanelle jabs her finger at the note left on the pitchfork. “Dasha did this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve grits her teeth, practically seething with anger. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dasha is going to pay! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve thinks to herself as she stares at the picture of the bloody pitchfork. The intensity of her thought, the pure rage behind it, it gives her pause and she looks up at Villanelle with wide eyes. “We need to find her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle nods in agreement. “She gets the postcards with orders from Helene. Maybe she’ll know where to find her and then it’ll be easier for us to take her in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait a second, take her in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn wants information, why not hand her the whole source instead of digging it out of her ourselves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just, I thought you were going to kill her. Ya know, since she wants to kill you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle bites the corner of her lip and tugs at the sleeves of Eve’s sweatshirt again. Her knees are now pressed to her chest and her chin is resting on them. “Eve, I told you I don’t want to work for The Twelve anymore but… it’s more than that.” Villanelle’s voice is soft and slightly vulnerable. Again, Eve feels privileged to see Villanelle this way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Eve encourages gently. She reaches out to rub Villanelle’s back, but the blonde flinches away from her touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to kill anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” is all Eve can manage to say in her surprise. She distracts her hands by playing with the bottom of her t-shirt because the need to reach out is still hard to ignore. She wonders what caused the change in the prolific assassin and desperately wants to know. She’s also growing concerned because Eve wants to kill them herself. She envisions killing Dasha for what she did to Niko and then Helene for everything she’s done to Villanelle. The thought of their blood on her hands is...exciting. Scary, but exciting. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to be the criminal psychology professor here? I mean, I will if I have to. I will have no problem killing anyone who threatens us. I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at that, but the thought of killing if I don’t have to is…” Villanelle searches for the right word but comes up empty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why is talking about feelings so hard? Why is having feelings in the first place even necessary? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Villanelle sighs to herself and remembers the good old days before she had a conscience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think maybe I am just tired.” Villanelle tips herself over at that point, letting herself fall so that she is resting against Eve’s side. “It is very confusing and I am not happy about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve chuckles softly and wraps her arm around Villanelle. She receives no resistance to the touch this time so she squeezes a little tighter, trying to be an anchor for the beautiful woman in her arms. Eve doesn’t know what to say, she was not expecting this at all, so she just does her best to comfort the former assassin with soft, soothing touches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve leans over and kisses the top of blonde hair while thinking: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Villanelle brought me closer to becoming my true self, whether I like who that person is or not. Maybe I brought Villanelle closer too? Maybe she has more humanity than we both thought possible? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve hopes it’s true, but she can’t help feeling like maybe they will need some of that precise, murderous technique and style she is used to from Villanelle for the days ahead. </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long time, Villanelle lifts her head and looks at Eve with serious, swimming eyes. “Killing gave me the things I wanted. It gave me a way out of prison, a passport to beautiful, glamorous things. It put me in the spotlight and I looked so good.” Her voice sounds almost wistful as she continues but there’s also a deep underlying tone of sadness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killing cured my boredom. It gave me something to feel and focus on. Even before I was doing it for The Twelve, killing was my way of trying to get what I wanted. I never felt bad about it, and honestly still don’t- except for Bill because that hurt you- but now… I guess killing lost it’s magic for me? It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span> for me anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallows hard before continuing, unable to meet Eve’s gaze. “And that’s because of you. You are the one who cures my boredom, you are the one who gives me everything I need and want out of life. So why do I need to kill if I already have everything I want? You're the only thing that feels right anymore, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle falls back against the couch, staring up at the ugly popcorn ceiling. She feels like she can’t breathe, like with each attempt her chest just gets tighter and tighter. Eve doesn't know how to respond. She’s never been the best with words either so she leans over and follows her gut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve straddles Villanelle’s lap. She leans forward and wraps her arms around Villanelle’s waist so that there is no space between them. She hugs Villanelle tightly and buries her face in the crook of Villlanelle’s neck before finally saying. “You’re everything I want too, V.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words trigger something in Villanelle, some deep rooted need to protect. “We need to leave tonight.” She sits up a bit so that she can look her lover in the eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight, are you sure?” Eve replies with a frown and a telling glance over to the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Konstantin said that Helene is in London but we don’t know exactly where. The metro that Rhian was going to drag me on had a million different connections and I don’t know which one we would have taken. I’m sure they’ve found her body by now and it’s only a matter of time before they turn up here. I need to keep you safe Eve. We need to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where should we go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My next job was supposed to be killing this disgusting American businessman during his vacation in Scotland. Since I am clearly calling in sick to that one, they probably sent Dasha to do it. She gets the orders directly from Helene so she’ll know how to contact and find her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so the plan is to find Dasha, find Helene, give Helene over to Carolyn, and then what? Won’t the people above Helene just come after us harder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if we’re dead. That’s what I really want from Carolyn, to make it clear that Eve Polastri and Villanelle are dead. We can escape with new names and a new life and The Twelve won’t even know that we’re out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fake our deaths? That’s the grand scheme?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Eve has already been fake dead once and she did not like it one bit, but maybe being fake dead with Villanelle will be better? Eve can already think of several interesting things to do to occupy their time. “But it has to be believable, that’s why we need Carolyn’s help. The Twelve really thought I killed Konstantin but really he was playing house with Carolyn! She can trick them, we can’t alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t trust her Villanelle, not after all the shady shit she’s pulled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t trust her either but at this point they are looking for Konstantin even harder than they are looking for me. He has 6 million of their dollars so it would be worse to travel with him. And I have a good amount of my own money but not enough to last us too long on the run. We need to die so that we can live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve mulls it over for a minute. Her brain hurts from staring down all the roads before them, but at the end she can see that Villanelle is right. Konstantin is even more untrustworthy than Carolyn, they don’t have the funds to run on their own forever, and The Twelve won’t stop hunting them until the job is done. Best to hunt them a bit first when they aren’t expecting it and then disappear at the right time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, tonight then. We’ll head for Scotland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans in and captures Eve’s lips in a soft kiss. It’s quick but passionate and leaves Eve wanting so much more. “Tonight.” Villanelle easily lifts Eve off of her and gently places her back on the couch. She gets off the couch and stretches, flexing her muscles that became sore from sitting so long. “Why don’t you start packing and look at flights. I have to go grab a couple of things before we go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful.” Eve emphasizes, punctuating her words with another kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle smiles against her lips and replies, “I will, but only because I have something worth coming back to.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you guys liked it! Ch. 10 will be up Monday but I do have some potentially bad news about updates, I go back to college Monday 8/31. It's a blend of online and in-person classes and I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep updating 3x a week. I'm in a really difficult and intense program so I will keep you updated on when the next chapters will be posted. I already have 10-13 ready to go so that's good, but I may need to go down to only 2 chapters per week. Either way, I'm really excited with how this story is going and I'm so thankful that you are all taking this journey with me. Thank you guys!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Green Eyed Eve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle and Eve landed in Aberdeen International Airport an hour ago. They had left fairly quickly after their conversation, spurred on by the threat of Helene finding them first and also eagerness to get this whole mess over with. Villanelle had left for about an hour before departing and when she returned to Eve’s little apartment she had a large duffel bag in hand and two new burner phones. The duffel was filled with practical yet still stylish clothes and money in various currencies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They each packed a small suitcase with just the essentials, Eve’s laptop, and the money Villanelle brought. Once the duffel bag was cleared out, Villanelle had Eve fill it with anything she wanted to keep from the apartment, little momentos, some nicer clothing, the bear Villanelle had left her, and all the case files and evidence from her time with MI6 and her personal research. Villanelle threw all the weapons she couldn’t smuggle onto the plane into the bag as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the bag full, Villanelle disappeared for another half an hour to stash it away. The morning after arriving in London Villanelle had rented a locker at a local 24 hour gym under an alias. It was the perfect, inconspicuous short term storage facility for anything they didn’t want The Twelve to find when they inevitably trashed Eve’s apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They decided that taking a plane was the best choice, risky because of the paper trail but by far the fastest. Eve still had the forged passport of Villanelle’s that she took from Anna’s house back when things were just starting to heat up, but Eve only has the passport that MI6 had given her after the events in Rome to help her disappear. Carolyn or any Twelve agent within the government would be able to track her movements if they knew where to look, so the pair knows they have to move fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve had used her time on the plane to book them a small Air B&amp;B under Villanelle’s alias, Marta Poslovina. It’s a quaint cottage in the Scottish countryside with charming green shutters and a cozy looking bedroom with a fireplace. Plus, it's not too expensive and it’s close to the golf resort that the target is staying at. For the rest of the flight, Eve tried to get some rest. Her attempts were futile though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle kept bouncing in the window seat, unable to keep still, just like she’s doing now in the cab ride to the Air B&amp;B. The only time her jittering knees stop moving is when Eve gently intertwines their fingers. The contact is soothing to them both but the nervous energy is still very much palpable. Villanelle has to drop Eve’s hand more often than she would like to text Konstantin as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is Saturday night after all and there is a zero percent chance of making it to Union Square tomorrow. She writes and erases versions of the first message for a few minutes before settling on: </span>
  <b>We are not able to make it tomorrow. Or ever. Enjoy Cuba. </b>
  <span>Short, sweet, and to the point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost immediately her phone buzzes with Konstantin’s reply. She finds it odd that he texts back so quickly and begins to worry a bit more.</span>
  <b> There are problems on my end too. I told you before that young women are difficult. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle chuckles to herself, pleased by the idea that Irina is annoying him. She knows first hand just how difficult that little brat can be. </span>
  <b>Tell Irina I say hi! But can you tell her in Mandarin for me? It’s our little inside joke.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>I will not. I’ll be in touch soon. Try to keep a low profile, they are coming for you.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle laughs out loud, in part because when has she ever managed to keep a low profile but also because she is scared again. Humor and sarcasm can cover up the deepest fears. It’s a truly terrible feeling really, like a rash that she can’t itch. It creeps all over her skin and leaves her feeling exposed. If they’re coming for her, then they’re coming for Eve as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve likely found Rhian’s body by now and traced her to the hotel. She was careful, paid only in cash, used a fake name, but The Twelve are not stupid. The message is loud and clear, Villanelle is not going back, which means that Helene will now likely be taking off the proverbial gloves. Especially considering that Villanelle killed her favorite new toy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easy to forget the situation that they are in when she was so wrapped up in Eve, literally. It was a perfect 24 hours of domestic bliss. In Villanelle’s opinion, it was worth the risk because even if they die at the end of all this, at least they had that one day to just be together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle spends the rest of the cab ride holding on to those memories. She replays every kiss, every little nuance and moan, in her head until her thoughts are consumed by Eve. Maybe, with a whole lot of effort and even more luck, they can have a lifetime of memories together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re here baby.” Eve says softly. The taxi had come to a stop and Villanelle had been too wrapped up in thought to notice. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night, remember.” Villanelle replies with a suggestive wink. Before Eve can reply, Villanelle quickly jumps out of the cab and carries both of their bags inside. She perks up as she looks around the small cottage, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wow Eve, you picked a really nice place!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure it’s not dripping with any of the glamour or elegance that Villanelle had grown accustomed to, but it really is quite lovely. The ceilings are high, framed by large dark wooden beams and the floor is a beautiful mosaic of local grey stone. Most of the furnishings are covered in earth tones to match the amazing view from the humongous bay windows in the kitchen. Sprawling fields of green grass that seem to move like waves in the wind stretch out as far as the eye can see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was the only place close enough with availability on such short notice. We got lucky.” Eve says as she flops down onto the brown leather couch and lets out a tired sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle continues to tour the house, bringing their bags with her to deposit them in the bedroom. Her voice is filled with glee as she calls out to Eve. “Come on, don’t fall asleep yet! Come see this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her stiff knees beg her to stay laying on the couch, but Eve can’t seem to deny the younger woman. So she heaves herself up and follows Villanelle’s giddy voice into the bedroom. It’s small but wonderful. A fireplace sits opposite the comfortable looking queen sized bed that is piled high with plush blankets, all with the typical Scottish tartan patterns. Eve is glad to have gotten up from the couch, this bed will be way more comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle peeks her head out from the en-suite, blonde hair falling over her shoulders like a beautiful curtain. “I thought you had bad taste Eve, but I really like this place.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a chuckle, Eve retorts. “I guess my bad taste is limited to clothing and women.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Villanelle pouts dramatically and holds her hand over her heart like she’s wounded, making Eve laugh. Their easy exchange makes some of the tension leave her shoulders. “That was mean, Eve.” Villanelle says as she saunters over, wiggling her eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, and how do you suppose I make it up to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle then snakes her hands around Eve’s waist and pulls the older woman close. Her hazel eyes are darker than usual and filled with mischief. “I have a few ideas.” Villanelle tilts her head down to accommodate Eve’s shorter height and captures her lips in a languid kiss. When they pull away, Villanelle’s whole body tingles. “Come take a bath with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve raises an eyebrow, still slightly dizzy from the kiss, and let's Villanelle guide her into the bathroom. A huge clawfoot tub sits in the center of the pristine white room. Villanelle fills the tub with water that causes steam to drift up through the air while Eve collects two soft cotton bathrobes for after. The warm water feels like heaven as Eve sinks in and even more tension unwinds from her aching muscles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle climbs in behind her, somehow making the normally clumsy motion look graceful. She settles with Eve’s back pressed to her chest and starts to run her fingers through Eve’s tangled hair. She spends some time working out the knots and then washing it with wonderful floral shampoo. Eve melts under Villanelle’s touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The act is relaxing yet charged with sexual tension. Eve can feel Villanelle’s breath on the nape of her neck. It makes her shiver despite being submerged in warm water. Villanelle’s nipples are clearly hard against Eve’s back, poking her lightly every time the younger woman moves. Eve can’t help but moan as Villanelle’s long fingers remove themselves from her now shining hair and travel down her neck. They brush over Eve’s pulse point, take a second to swirl over her scar, and then continue down the length of her trembling body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any tiredness that Eve had been feeling is gone. All that remains is desire to consume and be consumed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>xxx</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk over to the golf resort is quiet and serene. Eve always thought she needed the ever present buzz of the city to feel content, but walking hand in hand with her lover across quaint green fields is actually amazing. Eve points eagerly at a small herd of sheep in the distance and laughs happily when Villanelle baahs extremely loudly in response. It is the kind of carefree, genuine laugh that seems to be reserved only for Villanelle these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle dissolves into a fit of laughter as well once one of the sheep baahs back. “Look Eve, I made a friend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, the easy mood from their walk and laughter quickly dissipates once they reach the base of the resort. They are both buzzing with nerves at what lies before them. Eve is eager to finally meet Dasha face to face and make her pay for what she did to Niko. Villanelle on the other hand is dreading what she might have to do in order to pry information from her former mentor. She knows what a proud woman Dasha can be but hopefully some good old fashion manipulation will be enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if she’s not in her room?” Eve says to break the silence that had fallen between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully she won’t be. If there’s a struggle we don’t want any other guests to hear. We’re just going to go up there, gather anything we can, and then find her by stalking the target.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And once we find her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That shed over there should do nicely.” Villanelle points to a small, dilapidated wooden structure in the distance. It’s far enough away from both the hotel and the golf course that any screaming would fade into the Scottish countryside. And judging by its state of disrepair, it hasn’t been used in quite some time. They shouldn’t have to worry about any unwanted visitors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a genius.” Eve replies with an impressed grin to Villanelle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strange feeling swirls in the pit of the former assassin’s stomach. She’s thrilled to have Eve’s admiration, but she also wishes it was for something related to her cooking skills or fashion, not her prowess with torture. Villanelle decides to just take the compliment, shoving her weird, gross emotions to the side. Anything that makes Eve look at her like that is worthwhile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle winks as she retorts, “Just wait until you see me get our way into the room.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without further contemplation, Villanelle closes the gap to the towering hotel with Eve hot at her heels. Her back straightens, her muscles tighten, and she takes a deep breath before opening the french doors wide. “Wow, what a lovely establishment!” Villanelle gushes in a perfect Scottish accent as she twirls into the foyer. “Mother does have excellent taste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve follows her in, confused as to where this gambit is going but willing to play along. Villanelle drapes herself over the hostess’ counter, smiling ear to ear. “It must be wonderful to work for such a prestigious resort.” Her tone is flirty and light, and it makes Eve’s ears burn red. “You absolutely must give me a tour some time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man behind the counter is practically drooling. He leans over, grinning, and trying to puff his chest out to seem tough. “Why of course Miss. Anything you need I would be happy to provide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anger bubbles under Eve’s skin. She knows it’s unjustified but still, it’s there, hot and boiling. She takes several pointed steps towards the pair before realizing what she’s feeling isn’t actually anger at all, it’s jealousy! She bristles with the revelation and continues her journey until she is next to her lover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling, lets not keep the man too long. I’m sure he has very important stuff to do.” Eve’s voice is friendly but her gaze is anything but. Her eyes point daggers at the young man and she wraps her arm possessively around Villanelle. It’s almost imperceptible, but Eve feels the younger woman shiver at her touch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, my wife can be so impolite sometimes.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wife! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve balks at the word but quickly regains her composure to keep the rouse going. “But unfortunately, she is right.” Villanelle says with a dramatic sigh. She pulls out a medicine bottle from her jacket pocket, careful to keep her hand over the label. “You see, my mother is on holiday here and she forgot her medicine at home. She asked us to drop it off for her but she forgot to tell us what room she’s staying in. She’s an old lady with an ugly, grey bob haircut and she can be pretty rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man fumbles over himself as he types at his computer. “Of course Miss. I know just who you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank you, you are just the sweetest!” Villanelle really lays it on thick as he hands her a room key. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Room 207. And please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle winks at him over her shoulder as Eve drags her away towards the elevator. Once they are safely inside and alone, Eve pushes Villanelle up against the closed door. “What the hell was that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awe, is someone jealous?” Villanelle mocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s cheeks burn and she pouts indignantly. “No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what’s the problem?” Villanelle holds up the room key triumphantly. “It worked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t argue with that, but she can still be annoyed about it. She releases Villanelle from her grasp with a huff and moves to the back of the elevator, putting a good amount of space between them. It’s now Villanelle’s turn to pout as she trudges her way back to Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to be such a spoiled sport about it, Eve. I’m very good at putting on a show, you can’t blame me for that, but at the end of the day I will always be yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve looks up at the former assassin. She sees no trace of playfulness left in those exquisite hazel orbs and it makes her soften. She leans up and kisses Villanelle deeply. “That’s right, you’re mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strangled, needy whine escapes Villanelle’s parted lips, making Eve raise an eyebrow in curiosity. But the elevator door pops open and Eve makes a mental note to definitely explore that later. “Come on V, we have work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between the kiss, Eve’s possessiveness, and the nickname, Villanelle is helpless to do anything else but follow. She listens for sounds with her ear pressed to the door of room 207 first. Once she is satisfied that no one is inside, she swipes the key and they both enter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room is nothing special. Dasha has various clothes laid out of the bed and her suitcase lies open in the corner. Eve starts digging through her belongings looking for any evidence while Villanelle checks the bathroom and closets to make sure no one is hiding there. Once she is satisfied that they are alone, Villanelle joins in the search.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, after about 20 minutes neither of them have found anything noteworthy. Eve sighs heavily in frustration and plops down on the bed. Noticing her lovers shift in mood, Villanelle sits beside her and says softly, “It’s okay baby, we’ll get her. Come on, since this was a bust lets go try to find her on the golf course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve just nods and slowly rises to her feet. Then Villanelle hears it, the clicking of shoes coming down the hallway. “Hide!” She hisses to Eve in panic. Eve doesn’t hear the noise until the feet get closer and once she does her eyes widen. Frantically, they both throw themselves into the closet, closing it shut behind them just as the door knob starts to turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thick Russian accent can be heard, presumably talking on a cellphone since there is only one set of footsteps. The two hidden women hear the clatter of ice into a cup as Dasha pours herself a drink. “Consider it as good as done. He will be dead by nightfall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The closet they are hiding in is solid oak, no vents to spy through and even the cracks where the hinges rest are minuscule. Eve and Villanelle are pressed chest to chest in the small, dark space. Neither can see the other but Villanelle can feel Eve’s shorter body against her becoming impossibly tense. She reaches out blindly but carefully until she finds Eve’s hands and wraps their fingers together. It’s as much to comfort Eve as it is for herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no I told you already. I haven’t seen or heard from her since before her little vacation to Russia. For all I know she’s across the world by now. And good riddance! She was a pain in my arse. A pain in yours too, especially since she got the hiccups.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle feels her breathing involuntarily quicken. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, the hiccups were the worst! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve squeezes her hand, bringing her somewhat back to the present and away from terrible memories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. If I hear from that little brat I know where to find you. And the arrangement still stands, I will go back to Russia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is the distinct sound of a flip phone closing followed by the smashing of glass as it hits the floor. Then some choice words that Eve can only assume are Russian curses, before the main door of the hotel opens and closes again. Villanelle and Eve stay hidden in the closet together until they hear the ding of the elevator in the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god.” Eve says as she tumbles out of the closet. Villanelle is right behind, rubbing her eyes as they greet the harsh fluorescent lights. “What did she mean by hiccups?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Literal hiccups, Eve. I had the worst case of it.” Eve shoots her a questioning glance and Villanelle just shrugs. “There’s a lot to unpack there, can we please just go after her now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods eagerly and starts out the door. Villanelle catches a glimpse of something dark flash across Eve’s brown eyes. It only lasts a second, but it’s there. It’s a look that says, I will do what I have to do and I will probably enjoy it. For the hundredth time since first meeting Eve, Villanelle is reminded of a singular, intrinsic, exhilarating fact: they are the same. No matter how much Villanelle has learned and changed, no matter how many emotions she now feels rushing through her chest, no matter how much she doesn’t want to feed it, the monster lurking inside her still exists. And so does Eve’s. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's been a rough day folks, so if you guys could leave some extra love in the comments I would really appreciate it. I hope you all liked it! Ch. 11 might be up Wednesday but Thursday is more likely.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A or B</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I say this every update, but seriously you guys thank you so much for the support! Monday was my first day in my new college program and to say it was difficult is an understatement. I struggle with PTSD due to a really bad car accident and the commute to campus is over an hour each way so I was already stressed before I even stepped into the building. By the time I got home, it was sensory overload central and time to second guess every conversation I've ever hand in my entire life so ughhh. You guys were the bright spot to my day that kept me going.<br/>But here we are, chapter 11! Thank you all for sticking with me this far and I hope you enjoy what's coming. I don't want to give it away, but here's a little warning- this chapter is the reason for a couple of this story's tags, so if you aren't comfortable reading graphic depictions of violence please skip this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The previously sunny morning has turned into a rather grey and dreary afternoon. Heavy clouds hang in the sky above as Villanelle and Eve trail Dasha from a safe distance. They follow her through the sprawling greens until the hotel is just a spec on the horizon. There aren’t many people out on the course today due to the change in weather, which is perfect for carrying out nefarious plots.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Villanelle can feel Eve practically buzzing with anticipation next to her as they wait for the right moment to strike, crouched in the woods and out of sight. Dasha has finally stopped at the 9th hole, clearly out of breath from lugging around a set of clubs. Her target, a stereotypical American man who poses little to no threat once he’s alone, is riding along with his friends in a golf cart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wait quietly as Dasha lures the man into the set of trees opposite them. His friends drive away, unwittingly leaving him to a nasty fate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now?” Eve asks for the thousandth time since they’ve been stalking their prey. She has been like a child who is stuck in the car for a long road trip with no entertainment: Are we there yet, are we there yet?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle simply nods in response before leaving the patch of woods where they were hiding, crossing the stretch of green, and carefully making her way into the area of trees where Dasha has chosen to make her move. Eve is hot at her heels and Villanelle can hear the uneven, rapid rise and fall of her lover’s breathing. Historically, Villanelle has not exactly been a team player when it came to work. But even though the details of this mission don’t exactly thrill her, Villanelle is happy to be doing the job with someone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair hear a thick Russia accent coming from just up ahead. “Yes, it should be somewhere in there. Thank you so much for helping me! It’s hard to find a real gentleman now a days.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle goes first, peeking her head out from behind a large pine. About 30 feet in front of her she sees her former mentor slowly raising a driver over a round figure who is kneeling on the ground digging through the brush. His pants have fallen low on his hips to reveal a horrendous stretch of crack that makes Villanelle wrinkle her nose up in disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are all American men like that?” She whispers to Eve, who then looks around the corner as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh! No not all, but too many.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A twig crunching under Eve’s boots as she ducks back behind the tree draws Dasha’s attention. She lowers the raised club a fraction and looks around for the source. “Wait here.” Villanelle hisses under her breath. Eve opens her mouth to complain but one pointed look from Villanelle is enough to silence her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle steps into view. The shadows from the clouds cast dark shadows over her features. It makes the lines of her face look sharp and dangerous. Despite her slightly shaking hands, she is definitely the most dangerous thing in perhaps a hundred mile radius. Probably more. The look on Dasha’s face says that she knows it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m so glad I found you! I was worried sick looking for you!!” Villanelle’s voice is light and airy. It doesn’t match her expression at all and for some reason that makes her even more terrifying. “This is the last time I let you out of my sight, you senile old bat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The American sits up on his knees and turns to watch the exchange with confusion. His eyes light up when he sees Villanelle, looking at her like a dog who just found a treat. Dasha on the other hand, looks like she could have a heart attack at any moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much for helping my mother kind Sir. I turned my back for just a second and she disappeared. Can’t trust anybody now can you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no problem! She said she just lost her ball in here and I’m trying to find it for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, what a gentleman!” As soon as he turns back to the brush Villanelle rolls her eyes and brings her attention back to Dasha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want? No bullshit.” Dasha has the golf club raised in defense instead of attack this time. She squares her shoulders to be ready if Villanelle makes a move, but her eyes keep darting around the woods looking for an escape route. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle nods her head towards the guy still rummaging around on the forest floor. “Take care of business first, then I just want to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dasha narrows her eyes in suspicion but raises the club higher. Eve bites her lip, watching the scene play out from the relative safety of her hiding spot with rapt attention. She can hear her heart beat loud in her ears as Dasha swings the club with all her might. Eve wants to close her eyes but she can’t stop watching. She’s expecting a sicken crack when metal meets bone, but it never comes. Instead, she hears the splintering of wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the last second, Dasha swerved her aim away from the target and towards Villanelle. The younger woman managed to dodge the attack but the club came dangerously close to her cheek. It whizzes by and connects with the tree behind her instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The impact with solid wood throws Dasha slightly off balance. It’s not much, but that split second of hesitation is enough to give Villanelle the perfect window. With a heavy sigh, as if annoyed, Villanelle spins around and grabs the golf club from Dasha. She wields it high above her head and turns towards the now cowering, very confused American.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run!” Villanelle yells at him through gritted teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrambles to his feet, face beat red and sweat dripping down his brow. His pants barely manage to stay on as he takes off back towards the golf course. Villanelle laughs as she watches him go before turning back to where Dasha was just standing, but now it's just an empty space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older Russian woman used the second that Villanelle was preoccupied to try and make an escape. She sprints with surprising speed in the direction of Eve’s hiding place. Villanelle growls and starts to run after her, but all Eve has to do is stick out her foot at the right time and then BAM, the chase is over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dasha crashes face first into a pile of sticks and pine needles with a shriek. Eve feels a sense of triumph building in her chest as she steps into view, grinning from ear to ear. “That was for Niko.” Eve stands over Dasha and rams her boot down hard, connecting squarely with the middle of the other woman’s spine. Dasha screams again at the impact, face dropping into the dirt once more. Eve doesn’t relent, keeping her foot firmly in place to pin Dasha down. “You did a shit job by the way. He’s still alive.” Dasha can only manage a surprised whine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle makes it over to them then. She watches Eve, intrigued and more than a little hot under the collar. Her own darkness may be diminishing, but seeing it flare up in Eve is doing things to Villanelle. “Who’s losing their touch now, Dasha?” She says with a sneer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle trails her fingertips from Eve’s hip all the way down to the foot that is holding Dasha in place. She gently taps over the toes to signal Eve to let up, who hesitates but then obliges. “Come on, you have some questions to answer for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not telling you shit!” Dasha punctuates her words with some choice Russian curses as Villanelle hauls the older woman to her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’ll find that I can be pretty persuasive.” Eve says with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve leads the way, walking ahead of the two assassins with confidence and excitement in her stride. Villanelle grasps Dasha tightly, holding more firmly than necessary just to make sure that the short walk over to the old shed is extra uncomfortable. Dasha tries to whisper to her in Russian but Villanelle blocks out the sound, choosing instead to focus on the crunch of leaves under her feet and the sway of Eve’s hips in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The former government agent throws open the shed doors, sending dust and wood chips flying through the air. All three of them cough as they enter the building. It somehow feels even smaller on the inside than it looks from the outside, probably due to the large assortment of gardening equipment lining the walls. When Dasha’s eyes fall on the tools and she realizes all of their possible uses, she gulps audibly and struggles against Villanelle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not really going to do this to me are you Oksana? Please, I’ve been like a mother to you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oksana. The name stings and burns something inside Villanelle, bringing up that all too familiar feeling of black smoke filling her lungs. “Call me Oksana again and I’ll kill you right now!” It’s not an idle threat. She tosses Dasha down onto a workbench so that the older woman is sitting and uses nearby rope to bind her hands and feet. She tugs the rope tight so that it cuts into Dasha’s wrinkled skin. “And mothers are shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helene told me you were in Scotland, but I didn’t think you’d actually be that stupid. I thought I trained you better than this, Oksana!” Dasha’s tone is mocking and sarcastic. It is the last straw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it goes again, white hot rage fills her up and pours out like lava. Villanelle punches Dasha across the cheek, hard enough to make the older woman cough and sputter out droplets of blood. She’s already pulled her arm back, ready to release another brutal attack, when Villanelle feels soft hands wrap around her flexed bicep. She whips her head around, nostrils flaring and eyes wild, prepared to shake off this nuisance, but Eve is staring back at her with soft, pleading chocolate eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait baby, it’s like you said, we need information first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The coiled muscles under Eve’s hand relax slightly and she can see some of the fire leave Villanelle’s hazel eyes. The younger woman seems to deflate as she nods her head and lowers her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dasha bursts out laughing, the horrible, grating sound filling the small shed. “You’ve been tamed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even god himself could have swooped down from the heavens and stopped Villanelle now. She lunges at the older woman, growling like a wild animal. Her fist connects with a nose that fractures easily under her well trained hand, and blood gushes from both nostrils to coat Villanelle’s knuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve knows better than to try and intervene now. The rage radiating off of her lover is palpable. Oddly, Eve doesn’t feel afraid at all. She feels a strange sense of comfort and joy as she watches Villanelle land blow after blow. Dasha tried to kill her ex-husband, she deserves everything she’s getting and more. And they’ll get their answers one way or another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blinding rage spurs Villanelle on for another minute. It only begins to clear once Dasha is hunched over on the bench gasping for air. She pulls away, hands starting to shake again, and catches her own breath. Villanelle turns back to Eve, voice low and unsteady. “She’s all yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another word, Villanelle walks behind Eve. She presses her back to the splintering wood panel of the shed and lets herself sink to the floor. She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, hugging herself close. Instead of turning her attention to Dasha, Eve follows her lover. She falls to her knees in front of Villanelle and gently brushes a stray strand of blonde hair behind the younger woman’s ear. Eve doesn’t say anything, but she leans in and kisses Villanelle softly and passionately which says enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle whimpers into the kiss, then again when Eve pulls away. She reaches her arm up to grab onto Eve’s sleeve to pull her in again but quickly lets her hand drop back down to her knees. It’s covered in blood and she doesn’t want to stain Eve’s perfect, golden skin with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve notices the gestures and says softly “I’ll be right back, baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The former government agent stands then and slowly paces around the room. Dasha watches her through swollen eyes, clearly panicking. “What do you want to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything.” Eve drags her fingertips over the array of tools, regarding each one before settling on the pliers. “You’re going to tell me everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she does. Dasha tells Eve everything with only minimal plier application. She starts by telling Eve how she trained Villanelle, sparing no detail about the misery she bestowed upon the young assassin. She tells Eve how she got roped in with The Twelve all those decades ago and how now all she wants is to return to mother Russia to be with her family. And finally, after a bit more persuasion, she starts to tell them about Helene. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dasha reveals that it was on Helene’s orders that she tried to kill Niko. It was the only thing she could think of to try and come in between them, but clearly that was a failure. At the mention of Niko, Eve’s blood starts to boil and she strikes out with her hand, slapping Dasha hard across the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a piece of shit, you know that!” Eve yells in anger as she strikes Dasha again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old woman spits out more blood and looks up with a grimace. “Not any more than you or her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh!” Eve yells again while throwing her head back in frustration and looking up at the ceiling. She snaps her head back to glare at Dasha and decides it’s time to end this “Just tell us how to find Helene and this can be over already! I’m tired of hearing your voice.” Dasha looks panicky again, eyes darting all over the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The way I see it, you have two choices. A: you can tell us how to find Helene and we kill you quickly, or B: We use that hand saw over there to make you tell us and you die an agonizing, miserable death just like your agonizing, miserable fucking life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dasha drops her chin to her chest, clearly too proud to let them see the tears forming there. “Choice C?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“B it is then.” Eve says without missing a beat. She picks up the hand saw from the work table beside her, turning it over in her hands to inspect it. It is well worn but hasn’t been used in a long time judging by the layer of dust covering its rusted surface, and the blade itself is dull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dasha spits onto the ground in front of Eve’s shoes. “You can’t do it, you don’t have the balls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would believe her, Dasha.” Villanelle chimes in from her spot on the floor. It’s the first time she’s intervened since letting her anger get the better of her and she’s finally feeling a bit grounded again. “I saw her chop a man up with an axe. It was amazing! She is stronger than she looks and much, much crazier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re both fucking crazy if you think you can get away with this! Helene is number 4. She’s not some schmuck pulled from prison or a recruit off the street. She’s going to chew you up and spit you both out!” Eve and Villanelle look at each other simultaneously at the revelation. Helene is a number…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tell us how to find her.” Eve lowers the edge of the hand saw to Dasha’s wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t press down at all but the threat is enough to make Dasha blurt out, “Okay, okay! Helene runs the recruitment side of things. She picks who gets to move up and when, she makes most of the training protocols, and she’s in charge of passing out orders on a lot of the hits. That’s why she came to see you personally Villanelle; you were making a fool of her by acting out. They can't have recruits continually stepping out of line and you had so many chances to behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get to the point.” Eve hisses as she applies very minimal pressure with the saw. Her stomach is twisted up in knots and her brain pounds against the sides of her skull, but at the same time the rush of adrenaline through her blood stream is absolutely intoxicating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has safe houses in every country. She’s everywhere all at once. You’ll never find her before she finds you, but the last I heard she was in London. She owns a casino there, the Vixen’s Den, it’s in the city. As far as I know that’s her base of operations. My phone is in my pocket, check the call logs and you’ll find the number that she always calls me from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied with the answer, Eve lets the saw fall to the floor with a clatter. Dasha breathes a sigh of relief and lets her chin droop against her chest. Suddenly unsure of what to do next, Eve looks to Villanelle for guidance. She hadn’t let herself think this far ahead and now that they’re here, all possible information gathered and job well done, Eve starts to freeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is struck with the memory of killing Raymond. The sound and soft squishing feeling of her axe sinking into his flesh sends shivers down her spine. She knows the first blow to the shoulder was necessary; she would do whatever it took to protect Villanelle. However, after he was injured and off her, Villanelle could have been the one to finish the job. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now with Dasha there is no physical danger, no imminent threat to force her hand and start the process all over again. This is a choice. Eve still has the pliers in her pocket. Her hand goes to them and she then envisions herself plunging them into the soft skin over Dasha’s throat, right where she stabbed Niko. Except Eve’s aim would be superior and she wouldn’t remove them until Dasha lay lifeless before her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strong hands on her shoulders pull Eve from her own mind and she is brought back to the moment. Villanelle is looking down at her with an eerily blank expression. “I can do it, Eve.” Her lover’s voice is calm and flat but also determined. She places her hand over Eve’s on the pliers as if to gently take them. The skin to skin contact feels electric for them both and it seems to shock some life back into Villanelle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you don’t want to do this anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans her forehead down so that it’s pressed to Eve’s. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. At first she can only smell the coppery tinge of blood in the air, followed by the scent of rotting wood, but then she nuzzles closer to Eve and relishes in the wonderful aroma of the other woman’s perfume. It calms her senses and steels her resolve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve tilts her chin up and captures Villanelle’s lips in a passionate kiss. Her chest tightens and her heart races. She is overwhelmed by emotions and Eve lets them flow out of her and into the kiss. Villanelle reciprocates every one, pouring all of the love she can into her connection with Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathless, Eve pulls away and tightens her grip on the pliers. “Together then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if they had practiced the motion a dozen times before, the couple spins as one, each holding a handle of the pliers. Dasha’s eyes are wild and frantic but she is helpless to stop the metal quickly plummeting towards her. She screams out, pleading and praying in Russian. Villanelle has no idea what she’s saying though, her singular focus is Eve’s ragged breathing and the feeling of rusty metal against her palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Driven by the force of twin hands, the pliers meet no resistance as they pierce through flesh. Dasha’s screams don’t fade, they stop abruptly. It’s like they evaporate completely into thin air as her windpipe is torn in two, like they were never even there at all. Only the sound of panting is left in the tiny, abandoned shed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a long minute before either of them move. Finally, Eve whispers into the dim light, “What’s next?” She turns to face Villanelle. Blood splatters her pale cheek and Eve reaches out gently to wipe it away with her sleeve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn't respond with words. She can’t right now. All she can do is let the pliers fall to the ground with a deafening thud. She then turns to Eve, comforted by the older woman’s hand on her cheek. She takes in the sight before her; blood is covering the front of Eve’s maroon sweater and it lines the ends of her dark jeans. Eve’s cheeks are flushed and droplets of sweat bead along her forehead. She looks so damn beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle wraps Eve in a tight embrace, pulling her lover so close that there is absolutely no space between them. She buries her face in Eve’s hair and continues to take big, steadying breaths. Eve hugs her back just as tightly, hands locking together against the small of Villanelle’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll figure it out together.” Villanelle manages to whisper back while still clinging to Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve echoes her partner and their earlier sentiments, a smile blooming on her lips. “Together. Always.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please give me reassurance that you like the direction that this went because I need validation and probably re-wrote this like 6 times until I was happy with it. Ch. 12 is one of my favorites so I'm very excited to post it, probably Friday or Saturday. Thank you to every single one of you who reads and supports me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Let Me Take Care of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, thank you all for the incredible responses to the last chapter! Initially, this one was supposed to be kind of fluffy since the last one was so heavy- but here we are with a bit of plot and a whole lot of smut. If NSFW isn't your thing please wait for ch. 13, but judging by the comments on the last R rated chapter, you guys are going to like this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dasha’s body is still warm as Eve and Villanelle leave the shed. They race back to the wonderful little cottage in the countryside that they had become quite fond of, scrub the blood off of each other, pack up their meager belongings plus some items the owners of the Air BnB wouldn’t miss, and steal a car. They take turns driving throughout the night, fighting to keep their eyes open during their turns at the wheel and falling into an uneasy rest when enjoying the passenger side.</p><p>It rains the whole way. Heavy sheets of water pour down from the heavens in unrelenting torrents. Thunder cracks through the sky followed by streaks of bright blue lightning that seem to touch down right beside them. It’s the only source of sound in the car, except for the very occasional soft snores from Eve and nervous hiccups from Villanelle. </p><p>Despite the verbal silence, the couple shares many conversations during the long car ride. Knowing glances and gentle touches pass between the two seamlessly, conveying more than spoken words ever could. Comfort, acceptance, and passion can all be found in the spaces in between. Love too, but neither can break the trance that they’re in to say it outloud. </p><p>Somewhere around the 24 hour mark they ditch the car on the side of the road near the south western coast of Scotland. The storm finally begins to let up, but their few bags as well as their clothing get soaked on the short walk to the ferry station. Villanelle and Eve buy tickets for the next Ferry to Ireland and huddle together in the corner of the small, forest green painted building while waiting.</p><p>It’s not long before the water is calm enough and they can ship out, but it’s a subpar time for Eve to learn that she gets really bad sea-sickness, to say the least. Villanelle is there to hold her hair up and rub her back so the trip to the eastern shore of Ireland could have been worse. Plus their clothes dry by the time they arrive so at least that’s something. They’re learning to appreciate the little things.</p><p>Villanelle steals another car as discreetly as possible from the parking lot of the Irish ferry station. Eve can hardly keep her eyes open at that point, especially after hurling her guts into the deep blue sea, so Villanelle handles the driving. She heads south for miles and miles, hours and hours, sheer willpower and an unfathomably intense need to protect Eve spurring her on. </p><p>She knows that when Dasha didn’t check in by that evening that The Twelve would be suspicious. It wouldn’t take long for them to find Dasha’s cold, stiff corpse and figure out what happened. She knew she needed to get herself and Eve as far away from there as quickly as humanly possible so that they can regroup safely. A whole separate country seems the best way to go.</p><p>Villanelle’s left knee bounces from anxiety the whole time she drives through Ireland, only stopping once she physically doesn’t have the energy to do it anymore. She makes it all the way to the southern border, to a little fishing town called Kinsale just a few miles west from the major city of Cork. Considering there’s no road left, Villanelle thinks it’s a good place to stop. She finds a quiet little vacation rental and books them two nights.</p><p>Even in her sleep Eve is easy to carry. Villanelle brings the bags up first, then comes down and carefully carries Eve up to their room on the second floor. The older woman only stirs as Villanelle takes off her boots. They’re still caked with mud and rain water from their walk to the ferry station, and Villanelle leaves them in a pile by the door with her own sullied shoes. It’s rather hard to stay fashionable while on the move with limited time for shopping. </p><p>Villanelle climbs into bed beside Eve. Her muscles are aching and beyond stiff, but as she lays next to her lover some of the tension slips away. She rolls onto her side, gently stroking the curve of Eve’s cheek before her heavy eyelids give out and finally close. Within seconds, Villanelle joins her partner in a deep, dreamless sleep.  </p><p>It’s midday before they both begin to wake. The sun is high in the afternoon sky as Eve sits up and blinks her eyes open. She gazes lovingly at the beautiful mess of limbs and wild blonde hair beside her before taking in the rest of the room. The walls are painted a dusty blue and there are charming light yellow curtains draped over the small windows. Ocean and nautical themed decor adorns the medium sized space, making Eve’s stomach turn for a moment with the memory of the ferry.</p><p>A large glass jar filled to the brim with glittering shells reflects the sunlight coming in through the curtains. There’s a gorgeous, ornate ship in a bottle sitting on a large, white bookshelf in the corner of the room. From her spot on the bed she can’t tell what titles are there, but she imagines curling up next to Villanelle with some coffee to read one of the books. It sounds like heaven.</p><p>Eve’s gaze returns to her partner, who is just starting to stir. The bright blue duvet that is stitched to look like waves are crashing over its surface is only half covering the younger woman. One of her legs is sticking out, hanging over the side of the bed, and both her arms are above her head on the soft, cream colored pillow.</p><p>Eve has no clue where she is or how she got here, but she doesn’t particularly care. As long as she wakes up next to the incredible, complex, and not to mention beautiful woman beside her, Eve knows she’ll be happy and safe. Eve trusts Villanelle completely now. Committing murder together seems to have that affect.</p><p>The movements in bed rouses Villanelle, who rubs her tired eyes aggressively. “Mhmm, what time is it?” </p><p>Tufts of blonde hair stick up in every direction, making Eve giggle and smile warmly. “What?” Villanelle quips as she notices Eve staring.</p><p>“Your hair.” Eve uses both hands to run her fingers through Villanelle’s blonde locks in an attempt to smooth them. </p><p>The younger woman clothes her eyes and lets out a soft moan at the touch. “Oh.” She breathes out as she lets herself roll over so that her head is in Eve’s lap. “That feels nice.”</p><p>Eve just smiles wider and continues her ministrations until all of the tangles and fly aways lay flat. “I have no clue what time it is. I don’t even know where we are.”</p><p>“Kinsale Ireland, on the southern shore.”</p><p>Eve balks, she’s a bit embarrassed that she slept and got sick while Villanelle drove all this way. “You should have woken me up baby, I could have drove more.”</p><p>Villanelle reluctantly sits up again now that Eve’s fingers have stilled. “You needed the rest, plus you looked so cute.”</p><p>“Cute? With my face smushed against the window and vomit breath? That’s not a good look.”</p><p>Villanelle shrugs and grins while replying, “I said what I said.” She stretches before putting her bare feet on the hardwood floor and standing up. “Come on, let's shower and get something to eat.”</p><p>As if on cue, Eve’s stomach rumbles loudly, making them both chuckle. Without another word, Eve follows Villanelle to the en-suite. The nautical theme continues there as well. Little anchors and sailboats decorate the towels and a large, gleaming shell serves as a bar soap holder.</p><p>“This is a nice hotel.” Eve musses aloud, running her fingers over the shell. She grabs one of the tooth brushes that was laid out on the counter and enthusiastically starts brushing. </p><p>“It’s an apartment actually. I rented this one for a few days. It’s in a little strip of them that are rented out for tourists. It’s the first low key place I found that didn’t require a credit card on file. Plus it’s off season so there’s only one other guest in the strip beside the owner, who is a little old lady. Breakfast is included but judging by the sun we missed that by a lot.” Villanelle gestures out the small porthole window positioned above the toilet. It’s just enough to let natural light in but high up so that no one can spy on them.</p><p>“It’s small, just this room and a little kitchen, but I like it. I thought maybe we could cook something together? I’m not really in the mood to go out.” As she’s talking, Villanelle gets undressed. Her dirty clothes fall to a pile on the floor at her feet leaving her naked and positively glowing in the sunlight.</p><p>Eve finishes brushing her teeth as she listens, but as soon as she turns around she quickly gets lost in the sight of the goddess before her. She can’t help but reach out and trace the muscles of Villanelle’s abdomen, letting her fingers wander until they find the patch of raised, maroon skin of her scar.</p><p>“I would poison you.”</p><p>“What?” Villanelle visibly flinches and wrinkles her eyebrows together in confusion.</p><p>Eve lets her hand fall and erupts into laughter. “Oh my god, with my cooking I mean! I can’t cook for shit. I’m seriously so terrible at it!”</p><p>Villanelle joins in laughing, clearly relieved and amused. She shoots Eve a crooked, cocky smile and says, “So what can you do? You can’t cook, you can’t clean, and you’re always running late. Do you even know how to fold laundry?”</p><p>“Hey, I can clean!” She can’t argue about the cooking or running late part, and who really has time to fold laundry anyway?</p><p>“I saw your apartment when I left you the bear, Eve. It was a little better last time we were there but it still looked like shit.”</p><p>“That’s because I was depressed! I could clean if I wanted to, I just didn’t want to.” Eve’s clothes have now joined Villanelle’s on the bathroom’s cool tile floor. She grins up at her lover and turns on the shower to let the water get warm. “Besides, I can take care of you in other ways.”</p><p>Eve winks and bites her lip as her hands seek out  the heated skin of her lover. She gently scratches her nails up both of Villanelle’s arms until they lock around her neck. “Let me take care of you.”</p><p>Villanelle’s eyes flutter closed at the huskiness of Eve’s voice and it feels like all of the blood rushes to her center. “Please, Eve.” Villanelle’s voice is soft and small. It’s a side of her that only Eve will ever get to see. </p><p>“Anything for you, baby.” And with that Eve stands up on her toes to capture Villanelle in a languid kiss. Villanelle smiles against Eve’s lips and pulls the older woman closer. Just like that, all of their troubles melt away as they melt into each other. </p><p>Villanelle lets Eve guide her into the shower and under the water. Her heart is pounding in her chest and every inch of her skin tingles under Eve’s adoring gaze. The older woman pours body wash onto a baby blue loofah, letting the soap suds drip between her fingers. </p><p>Painstakingly slowly, Eve works from the sensitive skin of Villanelle’s neck down. She takes her time to cover every inch of Villanelle’s lithe body in soap, water, and then kisses. The crook of her elbow, her collar bones, and her breasts are all especially sensitive and Villanelle can’t help but moan under Eve’s expert touch. She’s learned so quickly how to spoil her partner and never wants to stop.</p><p>By the time Eve reaches her abdomen, Villanelle feels as if she could explode. Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps and her hands grip fruitlessly at the flat glass of the shower door. “Eve!” Villanelle says with a groan as her lover lowers herself to her knees.</p><p>The picture of Eve on her knees, wet hair plastered to the sides of her face, water dripping between her breasts, and eyes impossibly dark is almost enough to make Villanelle cum. “Tell me what you need, baby.” Eve’s voice is soft but commanding. It stirs something in the pit of Villanelle’s stomach that makes her growl.</p><p>“I need you. Please Eve, I need you so badly! Please.”</p><p>Never in her life has Villanelle ever begged for anything at all, especially like this. She takes, that’s what she does. She doesn’t need to beg because she just takes or demands whatever it is that she wants. In the bedroom, Villanelle prides herself on being able to make her lovers scream and moan. She loves the feeling of power and control she gets from taking care of them. It’s only occasionally that she lets them return the favor, and even then she’s still the one in charge. It’s the experience of taking that gets her off. But with Eve, with feelings, it is so different. </p><p>Villanelle wants to pleasure Eve, but not for her own needs, just to make Eve feel good. Sure she’s possessive and dominant and still loves the power trip from being on top, but with Eve she can truly let herself go. She feels safe when Eve touches her. She feels loved and cared for in a way that Villanelle has never even come close to experiencing before. Giving over a piece of herself to Eve, a piece of control, is terrifying and confusing, but exciting too. After everything they’ve been through together, especially after Dasha, Villanelle knows that she will let Eve take everything she has.</p><p>“Baby, are you okay?” Eve’s voice is full of concern. She is standing again and drops the loofah to the shower floor so that her hands can cup Villanelle’s cheeks. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Villanelle didn’t realize that she had closed her eyes, and when she opens them, she realizes that shower water isn’t the only thing streaming down her face. “Ugh!” Villanelle huffs at herself in frustration and quickly wipes the offending tears away. “Shit, sorry! It’s nothing. Please don’t stop!”</p><p>Eve gently grabs Villanelle’s hands and moves them to her sides. “Talk to me, baby.” The older woman strokes Villanelle’s cheek and neck, eliciting a small moan from Villanelle. </p><p>“I just…” <em> God, words are so fucking hard! </em>Villanelle balls up her hands into fists in frustration and sighs heavily. “Eve I… I’ve just never felt this way before and I fucking love it, but sometimes-” Villanelle has to take a deep breath before continuing. “Sometimes you make me feel so weak, Eve. And I love that too which is worse.”</p><p>Villanelle can’t meet Eve’s eyes. She tucks her chin down and turns her head to the side. She sees her own reflection in the shower’s glass door. Her hair is a mess and her eyes look frightened and small. Villanelle almost doesn’t recognize herself. Then she sees Eve, short stature, strong yet soft frame, and the deepest eyes she’s ever seen, and she feels a little calmer. </p><p>Eve tilts Villanelle’s face back so that she is forced to make eye contact. “Not even for a single second of your life have you ever been weak, V.” It’s the sincerity and conviction in Eve’s voice that makes Villanelle melt. “It’s not weak to want someone to take care of you. Love isn’t weakness.”</p><p>Love, there that word is again. It burns bright in Villanelle’s chest and claws at her throat, but she feels too raw and exposed to say it. “I thought you said I didn’t know what that word meant?” She shivers at the memory from right before she was rejected in Rome and shot Eve.</p><p>“I was wrong.” </p><p>Eve’s words make Villanelle press herself hard against the brunette, rubbing her aching body against her lover. Eve pushes them back so that Villanelle’s back is pinned to the back of the shower, out of the spray from the water and fully at Eve’s mercy. The tile of the wall is cold, and combined with the heat between her legs it makes Villanelle let out a long moan. </p><p>“Please Eve, I’m begging you. Please touch me.”</p><p>Eve’s the one moaning now. It’s like Villanelle’s words sent shock waves directly to her center. Eve drops to her knees again, keeping her eyes up to watch her partner intently. </p><p>“You’re mine, baby. I’ll take care of you.”</p><p>Eve then plants soft kisses down chiseled muscles, getting firmer the closer she moves to Villanelle’s core. She skips right over where Villanelle needs her most, instead moving to bite and kiss and the insides of Villanelle’s thighs. </p><p>Villanelle hisses and bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. Being teased like this is an entirely new, very enjoyable but also maddening experience. She opens her mouth to plead again, willing to do anything to get Eve to touch her most intimate parts. But before she can, Eve wraps her arms around her thighs, palms Villanelle’s ass, and firmly sucks Villanelle’s clit into her mouth.</p><p>“Fuck!” Villanelle screams as she throws her head back to rest against the wall. </p><p>Every muscle in her body tenses as Eve continues to suck and lick. Going from tender touches to such firm, well placed movements so quickly knocked the wind out of Villanelle. She was not expecting it, but that’s one of the things she loves about Eve, she’s the only person who can ever really surprise her.</p><p>“Oh fuck, yes!” Eve grips her ass more firmly, pulling Villanelle as close as she can into her face. Villanelle hooks one of her legs up and over Eve’s shoulder to lock them in place. </p><p>Eve’s tongue works magic, circling and flicking Villanelle’s clit at an unbelievably fast pace. Villanelle bucks her hips in rhythm against Eve’s face, clinging to her lover's hair and shoulders to hold her close. She’s already so close to release that her vision becomes blurry. Her hips move faster and with less grace than before as she feels herself at the edge.</p><p>“Eve!” Villanelle screams just as she’s about to go hurtling into pure bliss. But Eve has other ideas. She digs her nails into Villanelle’s soft skin and rips her head away at the last moment, leaving Villanelle panting and absolutely throbbing. </p><p>An animalistic whine leaves Villanelle’s lips as she continues to write against thin air, desperate for connection. Eve gets to her feet. Her lips and chin are slick with the evidence of Villanelle’s arousal, and her pupils are blown. Villanelle is about to start begging again, all of her nerve endings feel like frayed wires and she so desperately needs release, but Eve grins and says, “Turn around.”</p><p>Faster than she knew she could move, Villanelle obeys. She braces herself by placing her hands against the wall, resting her forehead on the wet tile as well. She arches her back and spreads her legs for Eve to put on a good show. </p><p>“Good girl.”  </p><p>Villanelle almost cums just from those words. She sticks her ass out farther, seeking the source of her desires, and whimpers. Pleased by the reaction, Eve decides to stop wasting time. She follows the curve of Villanelle’s ass until her fingers dip between spread legs. </p><p>Villanelle is soaking, and not at all from the shower. They both moan with the contact. “What a good girl, so wet for me.” And with that, Eve plunges two fingers into Villanelle’s pussy as deep as they will go. Villanelle’s eyes roll into the back of her skull and she subconsciously rocks herself back to take in even more.</p><p>Eve uses her hips as leverage on the back of her wrist to thrust into Villanelle harder and faster. The sound of wet skin slapping together pounds over the sound of the running water. Eve’s own heart feels like it’s about to pound straight out of her chest. She has no idea where this confidence and need to possess came from, but she can tell it’s what Villanelle needs and Eve is more than enjoying herself. </p><p>“Eve!” Villanelle screams again as wave after wave of pleasure wash over her entire body. Eve’s other hand wraps around Villanelle’s waist and sinks down to play with her swollen clit. Villanelle is pinned against the wall, unable to do anything other than moan, scream, and rock her hips. </p><p>Dark hair falls over her shoulder as Eve leans forward. Villanelle can feel hard nipples rubbing against her back and it’s just another marvelous sensation to push her closer to the edge again. “You are such a good girl, baby. You make me so fucking happy.” Between words, Eve nips at the back of Villanelle’s neck, eliciting more moans. “Do you want to cum now, baby?”</p><p>“Yes! God yes! Please Eve!” Nothing exists for Villanelle now except for Eve. All she can feel, all she can think, all she needs is Eve. And maybe Eve was right, this doesn’t feel like weakness anymore, it feels incredible!</p><p>“That’s my good girl.” </p><p>Eve’s words combined with the quickening pace to her clit is too much for Villanelle to take. From head to toe her body shakes as shock after shock of an orgasm surges through her. Villanelle’s mouth hangs open in a silent scream as she jerks and twitches under Eve’s devoted touch. Her head hits the tile in front of her hard but she doesn’t even register it. </p><p>Once Villanelle has gone limp in her hands, Eve gently pulls out and turns Villanelle around so that they are facing each other. Her cheeks and neck are red from the exertion and Eve thinks she looks beyond beautiful. Villanelle drops her head to rest on Eve’s shoulder as the older woman pulls her into an embrace. She tries to catch her breath as Eve strokes up and down every inch of available skin.</p><p>“Thank you for taking care of me, Eve.” </p><p>Eve lightly tugs blonde hair from the base of Villanelle’s head so that they are making eye contact again. Villanelle is confused as to why the look Eve gives her is one of uncertainty. “Was that okay?” Eve asks in a small, shaky voice.</p><p>Villanelle grins from ear to ear and quickly kisses Eve to calm her fears. “Call me a good girl again and I’ll tell you just how amazing it was!”</p><p>Eve chuckles against her lover’s lips. “You’re an asshole.”</p><p>“Yes, but…” Villanelle pulls out of the kiss so that she can focus on Eve entirely. Never in her life has she felt this understood or cared for. Her heart soars when Eve smiles at her, it makes her feel invincible. “But I’m an asshole in love.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, every bit of feedback is greatly appreciated. You're all the best! Expect ch. 13 on Tuesday.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Questions Over Coq Au Vin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you are all having an amazing day, but if you're not, I hope this chapter makes it a bit better. This is a touch angsty but primarily fluff central, so enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle seems to stand taller than usual as she walks through the streets of Kinsale. Her chin is lifted up to catch the late afternoon sun and it makes the golden strands of her hair that are sticking out from under her hat seem to glow. She is smiling from ear to ear and an almost carefree, yet powerful energy radiates off of her. Eve finds it intoxicating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so happy.” Eve says wistfully, smiling up at her lover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe that’s because I  just got thoroughly fucked in the shower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve chokes down a gasp as her eyes go wide. She looks around to make sure no one heard Villanelle’s rather loud words. Once she discerns that no one is paying them any mind, she replies with a wiggle of her eyebrows, “Want to christen the kitchen counter next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Villanelle’s turn to look shocked. Her cheeks flush pink and she nods her head eagerly. “Yes, please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve hadn’t quite expected that reaction. She thought she would receive a sarcastic quip or sexual joke, but Villanelle’s genuine enthusiasm makes Eve’s hands tingle. They long to reach out and touch her partner immediately, but are halted by the numerous grocery bags in her grasp. “Then let’s hurry and get this stuff back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m starving!” Villanelle’s mischievous smile makes it clear that she is not talking about the actual food. She winks at Eve before picking up her pace, clearly eager to get back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair follows the winding paths along the harbor front, away from the beautiful, brightly colored stalls of the farmers market they had just visited, and back towards their little rental apartment. Fruit, vegetables, local meats, and homemade goods are piled high in their bags, making the air around them smell like freshly baked bread, apples, and cinnamon. Of course, Eve couldn’t resist Villanelle’s puppy dog eyes around the candy stalls, so there’s also a fair amount of sweets mixed in as well. Villanelle had already devoured a chocolate coated pastry while at the market, and Eve smiles at the memory of kissing the trail of sugar from her lips.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another minute or two of hurried walking, they finally arrive back at their makeshift home. The Irish air has passed the point of being chilly and is now downright cold. Villanelle opens the door for them, somehow miraculously managing to balance a million bags at the same time, and Eve is eager to slip inside to the warmth of the kitchen. She deposits their items on the table and then can’t help but appreciate the way Villanelle’s muscles flex as she puts her portion of the haul down on the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re staring, Eve.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, Eve would avert her gaze, but she just trails her eyes up to Villanelle’s beautiful face. “Can you blame me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all.” Villanelle grins as she does a little twirl just for Eve’s entertainment. “Would you like me to cook dinner in just an apron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s mouth goes dry at the suggestion. She’s not sure if Villanelle is just playing or being serious so she airs on the side of caution, “What is for dinner anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, you can be no fun sometimes!” Villanelle says with a pout. “I’m making coq au vin. It’s one of my favorites. Have you ever had it before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman shakes her head no. She surveys the ingredients that Villanelle has left out and decides that Villanelle is right, she will like it. Eve likes most foods honestly, usually the greasier the better, so she’s not picky. Mushrooms, chicken, red wine, garlic, and a whole slew of fresh herbs that Eve doesn’t even recognize are laid out in a very orderly fashion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will love it, Eve! I promise.” Villanelle gets to work. Unfortunately, tying the all black apron around her waist over her clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve puts the remaining groceries away and then sits at the old wooden table to watch. She’s fascinated by the way Villanelle’s fingers move expertly, handling the knife with precision in a way that does not involve pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you learn to cook?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you learn French?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, so this is the game they are playing tonight. Their relationship has always been a sort of game in it’s own right, cat and mouse, push and pull. But over time, especially recent history, they’ve both lost count of who is winning and who is losing. They’ve realized that the fact that they are playing at all is enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After you shot me. I was in the hospital for two weeks and then bed rest for another two after that. I was bored.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle looks up from the chicken she is breaking down with slightly narrowed eyes. “So I shot you, and you decided to immediately go learn my favorite language?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve just shrugs like it is the most natural thing in the world. “I downloaded this little app to help me learn. It passed the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tu es étrange, Eve.” (You are strange, Eve.) Villanelle places her hands on either side of the cutting board, leaning against the counter with a grin. “Je l'aime beaucoup.” (I like it very much.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tu es étrange aussi.” (You are strange too.) Eve bites her lip and fiddles with the hem of her shirt to keep her hands distracted. “And, I like</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle simply chuckles and returns to her work. She wishes Eve had said she loved her instead, not just like very much. Villanelle meant what she said in the shower earlier, that she is in love with Eve. Eve certainly implied that she loves her back, but the actual words have failed to leave either of their lips in a proper fashion. Saying things so plainly as ‘I love you’ seems to be a struggle for both of them..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I learned to cook after prison. The food there was disgusting! So I practiced a lot during my training with The Twelve and got better as I traveled. You know me, I like nice things.” Villanelle does a fancy flip with the knife, twirling the sharp metal through her fingers with ease in a way that makes Eve gasp. “Plus, I’m very good with any and all weapons, kitchen knives included.” She drops the knife so that it lands point down in the cutting board, sticking up between the fingers of her other, outstretched hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m a shit baker. Baking is all about exact measurements and patience, not for me. I tried to make you a birthday cake once; it looked a mess and tasted even worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is surprised and touched that Villanelle tried to make her a cake from scratch. “I’m sure I would have liked it anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle laughs, the sounds bubbling from her lips like a melody to Eve. “No, you would have thought I was trying to poison you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The couple laughs easily and falls into a comfortable conversation. Ever curious, Eve asks more and more questions and gets an answer only after answering a question too. They keep it light and talk about their favorite foods, movies, and books. They learn about hobbies the other has and how they like to spend rainy Sunday afternoons. They each describe their perfect dates and promise that once this is taken care of they will act them out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all feels so normal for a moment, like they can forget about everything else and just be a happy couple on vacation enjoying a wonderful dinner. But it’s not true, that’s not them, and nothing about any of this is normal. Eve swirls the red wine in her glass, watching it swish up the sides, hyper aware of the sudden pang of longing in her chest. She decides to push the boundaries of their easy conversation in an attempt to ease that longing. After all, she does want to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going to talk about what happened in Scotland?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want me to fuck you on this table then yes, lets talk all about Scotland.” Villanelle grins from ear to ear but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Eve’s gut tells her that Villanelle is using humor and sex to avoid the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you thought it was hot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Eve blurts out, embarrassed by the truth of it. “But that’s not what I meant.” Villanelle doesn’t respond, she just stares down at her plate and pushes some mushrooms around. “Are you okay?” Eve’s voice takes on a much softer tone as she continues. “I mean, you said you don’t want to kill anymore but we did.” Her voice is barely a whisper now. “We killed someone together…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did it feel for you, Eve? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It felt… Exhilarating, devastating, insane, mostly wet.” Villanelle bites her lip to hide a smirk. “But numbing too. I think I’m okay. I just… I wish I hated it. I don’t want to like it V but-” Eve’s words die on her tongue in a fire of shame. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to steady herself. Villanelle reaches across the table and takes her hand, rubbing her thumb across Eve’s knuckles gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Eve. It’s like you said, we aren’t our monsters, they just live inside of us.” Villanelle squeezes her lover’s hand in reassurance and smiles softly.  “I think I’m okay too. We did what we had to do. I got so mad when she called me Oksana, then even madder when she said you tamed me, but I think it’s true. You’ve settled my monster and I’ve encouraged yours. Now we’re both somewhere in the middle together. Is that okay with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve brings their clasped hands to her lips and kisses each of Villanelle’s fingertips before answering. “More than okay.” She places their hands back on the table, feeling the grain of the wood under her skin. “Why did Dasha saying your name set you off so bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle visibly tenses and her knee starts to bounce nervously. “I’m not sure but, I think it was the way she said it and not the name itself? Her accent and the disdain made her sound like my mother.” She pulls her hand away from Eve’s and starts to chew at the skin around her nails. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it upset you if I called you Oksana?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long moment of silence. It hangs heavy in the air around them before Villanelle finally speaks. “Oksana Anstankova died in an orphanage, then again when she was rejected by the woman she loved, again in prison, and one more time in a fire that destroyed her childhood home. She is not a cat, there are no more lives for her to lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears sting at Villanelle’s eyes as she fights against them with everything she has. She balls her hands up on her knees, using her nails to dig into her soft skin. “But no, I don’t think it would upset me. I don’t think I would like it though either. I’m Villanelle now. Villanelle can change and grow, but Oksana will always be naive and foolish and dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve scoots her chair back, the legs making tiny squeaking noises as she gets up. Villanelle is still extremely tense, and Eve can see the slight trembling of her shoulders. She walks around to the other side of the table and tentatively places a hand on Villanelle’s back. When her lover doesn’t react, Eve leans forward and wraps her arms around Villanelle from behind. She rests her chin on blonde locks and kisses the sensitive skin below Villanelle’s right ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a few minutes, but Villanelle finally relaxes and leans into the embrace. She unfurls her fists and moves one hand up to run through Eve’s thick curls. She sighs at the feeling of her love being so close, at being comforted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve?” Villanelle asks with a shaking voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes baby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you love me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can feel Eve’s lips curl into a smile against the side of her neck. Eve’s arms tighten possessively and she clutches at the straps of the apron Villanelle is still wearing before letting go completely. Villanelle is immediately terrified by the loss of contact and she stands abruptly. But Eve’s hands return to her shoulders and she turns Villanelle so that they are face to face. When she sees eyes filled with unabashed love staring at her, Villanelle has to take a step back and catch herself on the edge of the table from the shock of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle, Oksana, both, I love everything you are so much. I love you, I truly do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s words feel like a warm blanket wrapping around Villanelle. They hold her close and sooth the deepest recesses of her bruised soul. The tears she had been trying so hard to hold back come cascading down her cheeks. The salt of them sting her bitten lips but she doesn’t care, she just pulls Eve close and kisses her deeply. She clings to Eve like she is the only thing keeping her feet on the ground, and it’s basically true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Villanelle’s lungs are absolutely burning from lack of oxygen, she reluctantly pulls away to catch her breath. She leans her head down so that her forehead is resting against Eve’s. Eve is panting too, and her eyes look hazy and clouded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is overcome with guilt. She feels like she isn’t deserving of this incredible woman’s love, especially considering that she doesn’t know the whole truth about Villanelle. She had been hoping to maybe never bring it up, never talk about it ever again, but she feels like she needs  to in order to accept Eve’s love completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I love you too Eve! So damn much! But-” Villanelle’s voice cracks as another sob sears out from her throat. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s okay if you don’t love me anymore after I tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V?” Eve says softly as she wipes the tears from Villanelle’s puffy, red eyes. “You’re scaring me. Nothing you say could make me love you any less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle shakes her head no, suddenly feeling even more vulnerable. She grabs Eve’s hands away from her face and takes a step back. She dries her own eyes, taking deep breaths in a fruitless effort to calm down. Her lungs are burning again, but not from kissing anymore, from the mountains of smoke covering the Russian countryside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, I…” Villanelle chokes out. She places her palms over her abdomen in an attempt to calm the dangerous swirling in her gut. Villanelle feels like she’s going to throw up. “I killed my mother.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further explanation dies on her tongue as she watches a wave of horror wash over Eve. Villanelle shrieks, covering her face in her hands and running to the sink to retch. She hears the frantic fall of footsteps and assumes that it’s Eve leaving, running as far away from her as she can get. Villanelle doesn’t blame her; if she could run away from herself right now she would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But soon, gentle hands are on her back, rubbing soothing circles up and down. Villanelle is confused for a minute before she is wildly relieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Eve keeps whispering reassuringly until Villanelle is done. Her body feels heavy and disgusting as she washes her mouth out and sinks onto the floor. Eve is right beside her though, never breaking contact. “Tell me what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle manages to move to sit cross legged, elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands. “I went home. I didn’t even know I had a home to go back to until Konstantin gave me the information. The Twelve had told me they all died in an accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice is unsteady and her breath comes in shallow gasps, but Eve’s presence makes it a little easier to go on. “I had the hiccups and for some reason going home was the only way to get rid of them. But it wasn’t home. My mother left me at an orphanage when I was 7. She said she would come back for me but she was a fucking liar! They told her I died there and she was happy with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I first showed up, she pretended to be happy to see me. My brother was actually happy, and so was my little half brother. They like Elton John.” A tiny smile flashes across Villanelle’s lips as she remembers dancing around the table with her brothers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For a minute, I felt like I belonged. We sang and danced, ate Russian food, and went to a harvest festival.” Her smile quickly vanishes as she remembers Bor’ka hitting his head repeatedly there because of the awful words their mother had said to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But my mother ruined everything! She told me to leave and never come back, that I oly bring darkness. She is the dark one, Eve! She couldn’t even admit it, the monster that she is. So I killed her. I had to! She was hurting Bor’ka like she hurt me. I killed the others too, my step-father, his son and the ugly girlfriend. They thought the earth was flat!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels Eve tense slightly and it makes her quickly add. “But I let Bor’ka and Pyotr live. I made sure they were safe when I set the house on fire, and I left them 50,000 euros to go see Elton John and start over.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t say anything, she just keeps rubbing Villanelle’s back until everything is laid bare between them. Villanelle sniffles, hiding her face from Eve’s prying gaze again. “I won’t hurt you if you leave. I understand if you don’t want to stay with me now that you know everything. I killed my own mother and I don’t feel bad about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud rush of air leaves Eve’s lips, like she was holding her breath. “Villanelle….” Eve gently turns Villanelle’s cheek so that they are making eye contact again. Villanelle is astonished to find no trace of fear or disgust in Eve’s chocolate gaze, only love and concern. That’s her Eve, always surprising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not leaving. This doesn’t change how I feel about you at all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve moves so that she is sitting up on her knees, making her a few inches taller than Villanelle in their current position on the floor. Her hands are soft and her hair falls down to tickle Villanelle’s cheeks. The intoxicating smell of Eve’s perfume and shampoo wash over Villanelle, bringing the younger woman a tentative sense of peace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.” Eve says firmly. “And I wish I could have killed your mother for you. Sounds like she had it coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can’t help the shocked gasp that escapes her lips. Her pupils go wide and her hands tighten a grip on Eve’s hips. She lets out an amazed, breathy chuckle and says disbelievingly, “You would have done that for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve bites the corner of her supple lip and nods her head yes. “Absolutely. And I wouldn’t feel bad about it either.” The couple stares at each other for a moment, understanding and acceptance passing between them easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what’s fucked up? We are the only two people in the world who find that romantic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle grins, pulling Eve even closer so that she is straddling Villanelle’s hips. “Then thank god we found each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kiss that comes next feels like heaven. Villanelle’s heart is soaring to heights it’s never been before, and finally she feels no fear of falling. She told Eve her biggest secret, the thing that had been eating her up inside since the train leaving Russia, and Eve still loves her! Villanelle can’t believe how lucky she is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their kisses and touches become increasingly desperate and Eve decides to keep her word. They christen the kitchen counter. Then the floor, the table, the couch, the bed, and the shower again just for good measure. It’s so much yet not nearly enough. Villanelle isn’t sure if it’ll ever be enough, if she’ll ever have enough of the incredible woman before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere between yelling words in every language she knows and devouring forbidden fruit, Villanelle determines that the only way this will ever be enough is if she gets to experience this for the rest of her life. She knows she is greedy for it, that most people go about their miserable existence without ever finding passion like this, but what can she say? The Demon With No Face has officially found her heaven, and she’s prepared to go to hell before letting her go.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for the continued love and support! Ch. 12 was by far my most viewed so thank you guys so much for that. As always, please let me know what you think! Ch. 14 will up Friday.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Definitely Arson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a long one, but I hope you all like it! And as a reminder- I adore every single one of you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle is dreaming of deep green forests and sprawling mountain ranges with a little log cabin tucked away at the center of it when her phone rings. She hears it in her sleep first, like somewhere inside of this wistful reality there’s an ambulance with a very annoying siren heading her way. The ground beneath her feet rumbles and shakes, tossing her to her knees and making her cry out. Then as the sirens get closer, it feels as if the ground disappears completely and she is falling, falling, falling until she is caught with a jolt by her mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her body tenses and aches as she bolts up in the bed she’s sharing with Eve. Her partner rolls over, eyebrows wrinkled together and a troubled frown over her face. “Make it stop.” Eve whines before throwing her pillow over her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle takes a quick second to smile at the other woman, thinking that she’s somehow even cuter when grumpy. Her phone blares to life again from its place on the nightstand and Villanelle is pulled from her happy thoughts and back to the nuisance once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Villanelle says with a hiss before even checking the caller I.D.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a morning person, I see.” The posh British accent that greats Villanelle’s ears makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s two AM Carolyn, I don’t think this qualifies as morning yet.” At hearing her former boss’ name, Eve removes the pillow and shoots Villanelle a puzzled glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, this isn't your routine wake up call. You’re almost out of time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically. “I told you, I’m working on getting you a big fish! It shouldn’t take much longer. Jeez, you women in power can be so bossy sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if we were men we would never be considered bossy, just good at our jobs.” Carolyn lets nothing slip with the even tone of her voice, but Villanelle can practically see the disapproving shake of the older woman’s head and roll of her eyes. “And for the record, I’m willing to be a bit more patient for this one, but that’s not what I’m calling about Villanelle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a short pause like Carolyn is choosing her words carefully, which only puts Villanelle more on edge. “I hear Ireland is rather dreary this time of year. Maybe you and Eve should consider a change of scenery? As soon as possible.” And with that, the line goes dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s blood runs cold. “Eve, get up. We need to go.” Villanelle’s voice is steely but Eve knows her well enough to sense the nerves beneath it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, what was that about? What did Carolyn say?” Eve asks without making any move to get up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans over and shakes her lover’s shoulders, staring at her with wide hazel eyes. “Right now Eve, we need to leave right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Eve can respond, Villanelle has already hopped out of bed and is tugging on the closest set of clothes. Seeing the frantic nature of her partner’s actions spurs Eve to drag her tired body out of bed and start getting dressed too. Her bones still feel heavy from sleep but it’s slowly wearing off and being replaced by an even heavier anxiety. “What the fuck is going on, V?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn said we need to leave Ireland as soon as possible. I’ll pack our stuff, you look at flights but don’t book any. We’ll pay with cash when we get there just in case.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve jumps into her jeans to pull them over her hips and then gets out the phone Villanelle had given her. She sighs while looking at the fluorescent screen. The bright light makes her eyes water as she begins to browse the web. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but what did she say exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That Helene is going to get us, only with more words around it. She knows where we are and is coming quickly so we need to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does Carolyn know that?” Eve narrows her eyes skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is focused on throwing clothes and belongings into their bags so she doesn’t even look up as she replies. “She wasn’t in a chit-chatting mood, but I figure if she was working for The Twelve she wouldn’t bother to warn us, right? She would let us get brutally murdered in our sleep and probably get a promotion because of it. We’re doing her bidding so that makes us valuable to her, she doesn’t want us dead. Yet anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve mulls it over as she continues to look at flights and decides that that’s solid logic. Carolyn wants information, so why would she want to kill the two idiots willing to risk their lives to get it? But that doesn’t explain how Carolyn knows the information in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deciding to wait to consider the possibilities until they’re on the road, Eve sighs and holds out her phone. “Okay, this one is good. It leaves from Dublin in 2 and a half hours so we’ll have to double back, but we can make it if we leave right now. It’s a long flight to Wales but then we can drive back to London.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it the first flight out that we can make?” Villanelle drops one fully stocked bag for each of them by the front door and comes to stand over Eve, who is still sitting on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods and pockets her phone. She rubs her tired eyes and looks up at the beautiful blonde. “I’m going to miss this place. I kind of liked it here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle glances around the quaint bedroom, smiling as she takes in the light yellow curtains and nautical themed knick-knacks. “Maybe one day we can come back? Take a little holiday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve rises so that she is pressed against Villanelle. She smiles softly and stands up on her tip-toes to plant a chaste kiss on Villanelle’s full lips. “I would like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soft touch calms Villanelle’s frayed nerves slightly and she intertwines their fingers, bringing them to her mouth and kissing the top of Eve’s knuckles before kissing Eve’s lips again. “We can go wherever we want. We’ll be free! I think I want to see the mountains too, in Switzerland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s go get this shit show over with.” After one more kiss, the two women grab their bags and get in their stolen vehicle. It’s not Swiss mountains or quiet, beautiful fishing towns, but the Dublin International Airport will have to do for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle drives and Eve leans her head against the window. She’s still exhausted, but she can’t take her eyes away from the still incredibly dark, early morning sky. She watches intently as the stars begin to fade and get replaced by tiny streaks of oranges and pinks. Storm clouds gather in the distance, which is so often the case in Ireland, and Eve wishes they could stay one more day, if only to dance together in the rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The couple had found a sort of peace here, nestled between whispered I love-yous and home cooked French food. The rainy coast with it’s beautiful, rocky shores and brightly colored markets had become familiar in the very short time they were in Kinsale, and Eve is already longing to go back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One day, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve thinks to herself</span>
  <em>
    <span>, one day we really will come for a holiday. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only a few hours before Eve is pulled from her thoughts as they reach the airport. They park as far away as possible in the long-term lot, hoping to delay anyone finding the stolen car there, and jog over to the large, imposing building. Buying the tickets to Cardiff Wales is straightforward. They pay cash, use their fake passports, and are boarded in thirty minutes. Just in time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve plops down into the window seat and Villanelle sits in the aisle, clearly still on edge. Her back is straight and her eyes keep surveying the other passengers, all of whom are minding their own business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be okay, baby.” Eve says gently in an attempt to calm her lover. She is nervous and anxious herself, but every time she’s close to Villanelle things don’t seem too bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it will be.” Villanelle squeezes Eve’s hand reassuringly before putting on her headphones. She plays her favorite classical and instrumental playlist, leaning back against the stiff fabric of the chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can’t let her guard down, not with things seeming to be escalating towards some sort of grand finale, but as Eve rests her head on Villanelle’s shoulder, the former assassin is able to enter a cautious state of relaxation. Eve’s dark hair drapes down over Villanelle’s collar bones and soothes Villanelle further. She leans her own head down and gently places it on top of her partner’s. The smell of Eve’s shampoo and the soft caress of the older woman’s hair against her skin eventually lulls Villanelle into an uneasy sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, this time she doesn’t get to envision picturesque mountains. Instead, pillars of black smoke, tornadoes of saw dust, and rivers of blood consume Villanelle in her dreams until there is nothing left of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>xxx</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Horrible pressure caused by the plane’s descent is what finally wakes Villanelle from her troubled sleep. She sits upright with a start, flings off her headphones, and does her best to pop her too full ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is already awake and smiling over at Villanelle with an amused grin. “Here.” She says while offering over a piece of bubblegum. “This will help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle takes the tiny pink package graciously, tosses the wrapper on the floor, and pops the gum into her mouth. She chews like a cow, with her mouth open to make loud, sticky noises. Eve grimaces as she watches the display, making Villanelle laugh and somehow manage to chew even louder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gum helps immediately and provides something to focus on instead of the building feeling of impending doom circling the pit of her stomach. Villanelle blows the biggest bubble she can, turning her face closer Eve so that the other woman has no choice but to watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I’m on the run with a child!” Eve’s voice is one of annoyance but her expression turns to amusement as she pops Villanelle’s bubble with her fingernail. The older woman laughs warmly as Villanelle fakes her own deflation too. “But I guess you’re pretty cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute?” Villanelle says incredulously as she sits upright in her seat again. “I am not cute, I’m devastatingly gorgeous! Obviously. And we are not on the run, Eve. Things are on the run from us; they just don’t know it yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you can be both cute and devastatingly gorgeous at the same time, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle grins like a wolf, devouring Eve with her eyes. “Actually, you do manage it quite well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman hits her partner playfully before standing. “Come on, asshole, let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still grinning, Villanelle stands as well and gathers their bags from the overhead compartment. They exit the plane and start to make their way across the large Welsh airport hand in hand. Probably because it’s a Tuesday afternoon, there aren’t too many people around. It’s mostly just men in business suits carrying black briefcases and cups of coffee as they dash around the terminal gates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A Starbucks sign gleams brightly in the distance and Eve points to it with excitement. “I need coffee!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She practically skips towards the green and tan booth, making Villanelle chuckle and mock Eve sarcastically, “Who’s the child now?” But Eve is already ordering and too far away to hear. Villanelle sprawls across one of the brown couches to wait for Eve. Bright lights from the television grab her attention and she turns to watch the screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Plumes of smoke and scorching flames engulf a little apartment complex along the Irish coast. Benches and trees, surrounding buildings, market stalls, all fall victim to the glutinous flames as the fire spreads mercilessly. The headline reads: </span>
  <b>Arson or Accident? Tragedy in Kinsale.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>Definitely arson...</em>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen cuts away from the fire to what must be present time. Piles of rubble and ash cover the streets, giving little indication as to what originally stood there. A tired looking anchorman with an ugly mustache that reminds Villanelle of Nico walks into the frame with a microphone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve!” Villanelle yells frantically to her lover. “Come here right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve had just grabbed their orders of coffee and was about to join Villanelle on the couch anyway when she hears the other woman yelling. She scowls briefly at being talked to in such a demanding manor, but once she sees the television that Villanelle can’t take her eyes off of, Eve’s heart drops to her stomach. “Shit, shit, shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both watch with rapt attention as the newscaster begins to speak. “There is nothing left of the Mariners Apartment Complex after a tragic fire brought the historical building to the ground early this morning.  Authorities have reported that the fire started somewhere on the second story around 3am and then continued to sweep through the little fishing town of Kinsale, Ireland until local fire departments were able to get it under control at 5am. Currently, 6 people have been confirmed dead and at least three are unaccounted for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen is changed to show the photographs of the deceased, and Villanelle winces when she sees the smiling face of the little old lady who owned the establishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The cause of the fire is still under investigation, but according to the authorities, arson has not been ruled out.” The screen changes again to display the charred remains of yellow curtains and a shattered, glittering shell now smudged with ash. “The occupants of the room where the fire is said to have originated have not yet been located. Anyone with information on these two women should come forward immediately.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A police sketch of Villanelle and Eve appear next on the television. They are overall poor and definitely have certain details wrong, but if you squinted the drawings sure would look a lot like a former MI6 agent and an international assassin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How the hell did they find us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, but I’m glad that Carolyn called when she did.” Villanelle pulls her eyes away from the screen to look at Eve, clearly distressed. “Maybe our passports? Yours isn’t your real information but it is still government issued. If they have a man on the inside maybe they tracked it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can only bite her lip and offer a nervous nod in reply. She tips back the rest of her coffee in one long swig and jumps to her feet. “I don’t like this one bit. It’s too convenient. Carolyn calls to get us out of there by the skin of our teeth, and yeah they could have tracked our passports into the country but how did they know exactly where we were staying? We’re missing something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve rubs her temples, momentarily taking on that far away look she gets when she’s racking her brain for all available information. Quickly though, she shakes her head and snaps her gaze to Villanelle’s. “I’ll feel better once we’re on the road. Let’s get out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle nods in agreement and picks up their bags. The couple hurries towards the closest exit, doing their best not to actually run and draw more suspicion to themselves, even though their feet want to carry them away as fast as humanly possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is ahead of Eve by several steps, mostly just due to the nature of her longer legs and athletic build. But it’s luck really, that she’s the one out of the door first, because her superior reflexes are the only reason she gets away. If Eve had been first, well Villanelle doesn’t want to think about that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It happens in less than a second. Villanelle sees his eyes, black and narrow and far too familiar. By the time she recognizes where she knows them from, a trigger has already been pulled. Eve screams. Villanelle hates the sound of it, like nails on a chalkboard. Her screams of horror are so very different from her screams of pleasure, and Villanelle so wishes she could hear those right now instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she can’t. All she can hear is more screaming, from Eve and regular citizens who were just going about their business. She hears the rush of blood in her ears too, and the crunching of gravel against shoes as people run. She feels the hot, sticky sensation of fresh blood on her skin. It drips along the curve of her arm, a flesh wound that had been aimed at her heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bullet would have hit it’s mark if Villanelle wasn’t so quick. She has her time in prison and training with The Twelve to thank for that. She is the best after all. Once she saw his eyes, Villanelle was able to shove Eve out of the way and dive to the right. The bullet still tore through flesh like a knife through butter, but it missed any serious organs and the most damage will be a nasty scar over her left bicep. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damnit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Villanelle thinks to herself as she grits her teeth, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eve is the only one who is allowed to leave me scars! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As if pulled like a magnet by her thoughts, Eve is at Villanelle’s side. She falls to her knees, pulling off Villanelle’s jacket to properly assess the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm, not now baby.” Villanelle swats Eve’s hands away and draws herself to her knees with a shaky breath. “Can’t you wait to take my clothes off until after this idiot stops trying to kill us?” Villanelle gives Eve a parting wink, lets adrenaline and instinct take control of her body, and stands to face her opponent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her muscles are no longer shaking, fueled to attention by anger and a fierce need to protect.  “Ivan, you missed me so much you had to come back for a rematch? Im honored!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man who just shot at Villanelle stalks closer, almost cautiously. His gun is aimed at her head and the glare from it’s dark metal stings Eve’s eyes. She feels as if she’s rooted to the spot, knees stuck to the ground as she struggles to put the pieces together. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How to fuck did they find us already? He shot at Villanelle! I’m gonna kill this guy!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you do remember me, Oksana?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! How could I forget a face that I’ve beaten to a pulp?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivan spits on the ground at that, as if the words brought up some particularly vile memory. “Well the boss says I get to make you pay for that, so stay still this time would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve has no conscious control of her actions, she’s fully relying on impulse as she jumps in front of Villanelle. “Don’t hurt her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve!” Villanelle hisses under her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out of the way, you idiot! Boss wants you alive.” Ivan’s grin is sickening. Villanelle feels a lurch in her stomach, prompting her to quickly shove Eve behind her. Eve seems too stunned by the revelation that she doesn’t put up a fight, which is good in Villanelle’s opinion because now is the time to act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle drops to a crouch, swings her right leg forward, and then launches up from that extended leg with all her strength to ram her palm into Ivan’s wrist. The male assassin takes several shots, all of which connect only with gravel or metal due to Villanelle’s tactical evasion maneuvers, before the blow to his wrist causes his grip on the gun to loosen. Much to Villanelle’s disappointment, Ivan doesn’t drop it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swings with his free hand, connecting his fist with Villanelle’s ribs and causing a painful splintering sound that even Eve can hear from 10 feet away. Villanelle doubles over from the pain, but recovers just in time to move behind Ivan before he lets loose another torrent of bullets. She wraps her forearm around his throat, locking it behind her other elbow and pressing against his windpipe with all of her strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were always so slow in training, Ivan. It's a shame that you haven’t gotten any faster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man growls and struggles against Villanelle with all of his might. He waves the gun frantically, trying to get an angle for a good shot but ends up dropping it in the process. Villanelle laughs at that, a cruel melody leaving her pink lips. It doesn’t sound like it belongs to her anymore, like someone behind a screen is making these noises and movements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t have time to analyze it any further because there’s a sickening, wet, thud, and suddenly Ivan isn’t struggling anymore. She feels the hot spray of blood across her cheeks. It splashes against her lips, making bile rise to her mouth. Again, Villanelle is thankful for her training because it’s the only reason she realizes what is happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run!” She shouts to Eve, who had just finished picking up Ivan’s discarded gun. Villanelle lets Ivan's body fall to the ground, landing like a sack of potatoes at her feet. Villanelle begins to run then too, zigzagging through the parking lot to avoid giving the sniper that she knows is watching clear line of sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had shot Ivan, hoping that the bullet would go through him and into her. It was smart, cold, and calculating, but thankfully a minor misjudgment of the angle was enough to let Villanelle narrowly get away with her life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glass shatters around her as car windows are shot out, but Villanelle keeps her head down and sprints towards the first person she sees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me your fucking keys!” Villanelle doesn’t need to ask twice. A middle aged man who had been fumbling with the keys to get in his own car, literally wets himself as Villanelle snatches the keys from his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the driver side door is even closed, Villanelle reverses out of the spot. She slams the car into drive once there’s enough room and quickly bridges the gap between her and Eve. Slamming on the breaks, she leans over to the passengers door and pushes it open. “Get in!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve, out of breath from running and heart racing from being shot at, dives eagerly into the relative safety of the vehicle. She scrambles to close the door behind her as Villanelle begins to drive away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see where they’re shooting from?” Villlanelle’s voice has taken on that icy tone again, like she’s there but not really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods and lowers her window slightly. Her hands are surprisingly steady as she raises the gun so that the barrel is pointing through the slot. Her heart is still racing now, but it’s definitely not from fear anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretend like you are going for the main exit and then swing a quick left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t question her partner. She floors it towards the exit, the sound of sirens in the distance getting closer and closer. Then, at the very last second, Villanelle swings a hard left, giving Eve the perfect shot. Before she has time to change her mind, Eve’s forefinger pulls the trigger, not once, not twice, but 5 times. 4 out of the 5 context with the tissue of the sniper who was perched on top of the parking garage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve watches with fascination as his lifeless body plummets the 40 feet back to earth. His joints and limbs are all going in opposite angels and dark red blood puddles around him in every direction. She doesn’t feel an ounce of regret. Instead, only a tingling warmth radiates from her fingertips inward until her entire body is buzzing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her excitement is cut abruptly short by the deafening sound of more shots being fired. Bullets blast through the back door of the car, getting lodged in the thick seats or ripping through the other side. Thankfully, Villanelle is already driving too fast for a second sniper to hit the front part of the vehicle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit! I didn’t realize there were two of them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle steers erratically, launching the car over partitions until she is heading away from the sound of sirens and towards what appears to be a loading area for deliveries. She uses the delivery routes to wrap around the outside of the airport, away from the scene of the crime, until she finds another car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost mechanically, Villanelle jumps out of the car that is riddled with bullet holes, and hot-wires the new pickup truck. Once its engine purrs to life, Eve throws their bags in the back and comes around to the drivers side door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me.” Eve says softly but firmly. Her eyes travel to the still bleeding wound across Villanelle’s bicep. “You need to clean that up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following her gaze, Villanelle sighs at her own injury. She had nearly forgotten about it, but now with attention drawn to it and adrenaline wearing off, it’s beginning to sting like a bitch. Making no protests, Villanelle gets out of the driver’s side. Once she’s standing next to Eve, she crashes their lips together in a kiss that takes their breath away. Her tongue immediately seeks Eve’s, who eagerly reciprocates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s body is back to buzzing in full force. She reaches her arm around and palms Villanelle’s ass as she pulls her lover closer. Villanelle tangles her fingers through dark locks and tugs, tipping Eve’s head back so that their lips are now just barely touching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never do something stupid like that again, Eve. Never stand in between me and someone with a gun.” Villanelle drags her teeth across Eve’s heated skin until she reaches the sensitive spot at the crook of her neck. “Do you understand me, Eve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman moans as she arches her body into Villanelle’s touch. The former assassin tugs Eve’s hair harder, tilting her neck until it’s at just the right angle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both immeasurably turned on and enraged by her lover’s response, Villanelle bites down. Her teeth sink into soft, supple flesh causing a strangled scream to tear from Eve’s parted lips. Now this is much better, these are the kind of noises she loves to hear from Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” Villanelle laps at the red, already bruising marks left by her teeth. Eve arches her whole body further into Villanelle, practically writhing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Her voice is raw from all the screaming, making it sound deeper and huskier than usual, and oh so sweet to Villanelle. “It’s like you said when we killed Dasha together, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle growls, something igniting in her chest like a bomb. “But if you got hurt protecting me… I would kill them all and then you for doing something so stupid!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you wouldn’t.” Eve manages to maneuver them so that Villanelle’s back is pressed to the blue exterior of the truck. Villanelle briefly wonders how on earth Eve managed to get the upper hand in this, but all her thoughts stop once she feels Eve’s lips traveling the expanse of her injured arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve hovers over the source of the pain that’s currently radiating through Villanelle’s entire left side, before kissing the wound. Instead of more pain, jolts of pure pleasure sear through Villanelle from her arm directly to her center. It’s blinding in its intensity and makes her see stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Eve!” Villanelle moans as she rocks her hips towards her lover.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t because you don’t want to break what’s yours.” Eve pulls back and grins wickedly with bright red lips. “You won’t kill me because we belong to each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We belong to each other.” Villanelle whispers in confirmation before crashing her lips against Eve’s again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Approaching sirens are the only reason they part. Any other circumstances and they would have taken each other right there. They both scramble into the vehicle and Eve floors it towards the loading dock area exit, which is thankfully in the opposite direction from the police. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans over into the backseat and grabs her bag. She rummages through it frantically before turning to Eve with a look of horror and a shriek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot my headphones on the plane!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve tips her head back in laughter and smiles over at Villanelle, who is genuinely distressed. “Well, I’m not turning around!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle plants her head on the dashboard, cursing in Russian, while Eve continues to laugh. The older woman pats Villanelle’s back in mock comfort and then turns on the car’s radio. An upbeat American song comes on and Eve starts to sing along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s horrendously off key and struggles to carry a tone, but Villanelle finds it endearing and eventually lifts her head off the dashboard. It’s not long before they are both singing at the top of their lungs as they speed towards the horizon. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can our girls ever catch a break? Find out in chapter 15, to be posted on Tuesday. We are nearing the endgame here!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Heaven Is A Place On Earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Maybe (definitely) don't read this at work? You know the drill, NSFW content ahead, read at your own discretion.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It turns out that the radio in the beaten up pick-up truck cycles through the same six songs over and over again. Only two of them are actually good, another two have fun beats, and the final two are objectively bad. Still, Villanelle and Eve sing their hearts out to each and every one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of sirens and gunshots are now far behind them, left in the dust along with the bodies of Ivan and the faceless sniper. Certainly the police have found the original car and all its bullet holes by now, and guaranteed there will be several eyewitnesses who would be able to pick them out of a line up, but the road is nearly empty behind them. There’s no mad car chase or anyone at all obviously following the couple. They must have raced out of the loading dock just in the nick of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they sing! It’s a celebration for their little ounce of luck at an escape, and it takes their minds off of the fact that there was anything to escape from in the first place. They sing and they drive for hours and hours before stopping. They fill up the tank as quickly as possible, being careful to stay away from any obvious cameras, and start the process all over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve rolls her window down a bit and the wild wind that enters the car throws her hair around to make a beautiful tornado. Villanelle watches with wonder as Eve’s chocolate locks fly, unable to keep the wide smile from her face. Even over the wind and blasting radio, Villanelle can still clearly hear Eve’s terrible but wonderful off key singing.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“When the night falls down I wait for you and you come around. And the world’s alive, with the sound of kids on the street outside. When you walk into the room, you pull me close and we start to move. And we’re spinning with the stars above, and you lift me up in a wave of love!”</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Prior to this morning, Villanelle had never heard this song before. But after multiple hours of it bouncing around her skull, Villanelle opens her mouth to join her lover and the words spill out with a rush of excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Ooh, heaven is a place on earth. They say in heaven love comes first. We’ll make heaven a place on earth!”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is too consumed with this strange sensation of glee that she momentarily forgets about her injured arm. She instinctively reaches across the center console in an attempt to run her fingers through Eve’s magnificent, wind swept hair, but she’s stopped half way by searing pain that radiates through her muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Villanelle hisses through gritted teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve promptly turns to face her partner and turns off the radio, giving Villanelle her full attention. Villanelle quickly pulls her arm back to her body, tucking it across her chest and pressing her opposite hand over the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the initial shock of pain passes, Villanelle pouts at Eve. “Hey, why did you turn it off? I like that song.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it bleeding again?” Eve asks, completely ignoring her partner's adorable puppy dog eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle nods reluctantly as she takes another strip of fabric from one of Eve’s old t-shirts at her feet. They managed to rip it up when they first got on the road to stave the bleeding. Now that it's started up again, Villanelle ties another layer of the black fabric tightly around her bicep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should find you a doctor. You need stitches.” Eve says, not for the first time since fleeing the airport.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctors are not idiots, Eve. You know they have to go to school for a very long time to get their degrees. They will know this is a gunshot wound and will have to report it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t help the roll of her eyes. “Bullshit. It’s a gash, we can make up a story that’s believable enou-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle cuts her off. “Too risky. Besides, our faces are probably  plastered all over the news and we still don’t know how The Twelve managed to find us. What if they have access to all those medical records and stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we won’t just waltz into the hospital and be like- hey, international assassin Villanelle and her murderer girlfriend Eve here for assistance!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve waits for the sarcastic remark she expects to come, but after 30 seconds of silence she takes her eyes off the road to look at Villanelle again. A surprisingly stupid, happy, smug grin spans Villanelle’s cheeks from ear to ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Stop being weird, V.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle somehow manages to grin wider as she reaches her fully functional arm over to poke Eve on the stomach. “You said you’re my girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, we say I love you to each other, kiss, have mind blowing sex. Not to mention that we kill people we need to together. I would say the girlfriend label applies here.” Eve gets nervous for a second and darts her eyes over Villanelle’s features, searching for a sign of confirmation. “That is what is happening here right? I’m not completely crazy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no Eve, you are absolutely completely crazy! But you are my completely crazy girlfriend!” Villanelle tips her head back, practically giggling with glee. “I don’t think girlfriend really covers what we are to each other, but I like it anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment she looks carefree and genuinely happy. Eve marvels at the curve of her lips as the laughter bubbles out. She commits the truly one of a kind sound to memory and is instantly determined to hear it again, as often as possible preferably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful when you laugh.” The words leave Eve’s lips without any conscious thought, making her blush slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like to think that I am beautiful all the time, but thank you.” There it is again, the crystal clear wonderful laugh that makes tiny butterflies rage against Eve’s rib cage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still grinning, Villanelle turns on the radio again and starts singing along to the familiar tune. As carefully as possible, she rests her elbow on the center console and intertwines her fingers with Eve’s. With one hand on the steering wheel, Eve leans over and plants a messy, quick, beautiful kiss on Villanelle’s lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So where am I driving to, girlfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back to London. It’ll take us a couple of days from here but I think we should stay on the road as much as possible. I won’t feel comfortable stopping until we get there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods her head in agreement and squeezes Villanelle’s hand. “Any response yet from Carolyn or Konstantin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing yet.” Villanelle bites her lip and checks her phone for the twentieth time. The screen is still painfully blank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what are we going to do about your arm? How long do you think it’ll take to heal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A week, maybe two. But I’ll be able to throw a good punch in a few days so our time line is still fine. It could have been much worse. We got lucky” Eve squeezes her hand even tighter. “You’re right about the stitches though. Pull off at the next exit and hopefully we can find a drug store to get a first aid kit and an aux cord. I’ve grown to like that heaven song very much, but my Ipod has a much better selection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve visibly pales at that. “You mean you want to try and do the stitches ourselves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle nods grimly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can see the gears in Eve’s beautiful mind working, but whether it’s on stitches or the bigger picture she’s not sure. They don’t sing anymore after that; they just watch the road as asphalt and blobs of pine green blur by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>xxx</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you ever wish on stars as a kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Villanelle turns her head to the side to face Eve, but Eve isn’t looking at her. She is staring up at the vast expanse of space suspended over their heads with dreamy eyes and a wistful expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The couple had watched as a million shades of purples and blues gave way to a seemingly endless blackness. The dark void stretches on in every direction, uninterrupted by bright lights of a bustling city or cars on the highway. The only source of light is the nearly full moon and all of her little star children, who seem to have gathered around their adoring mother for a bedtime story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ya know, like make wishes for the universe to grant and stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle tugs at the sleeves of the dark red sweater she’s wearing. It’s one of Eve’s. None of her clothes are really suited for camping so she had to borrow it. She  brings the soft fabric of the sweater up to cover her fingers and crosses her hands over her chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. Maybe when I was very little, but I don’t really remember.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns her head back towards the inky black sky, with it’s bright little balls of flame. The clarity and the openness reminds Villanelle of the Russian country side. She doesn’t like it very much, but with Eve by her side Villanelle doesn’t feel like she’s going to dissolve into the vacuum of space anymore. She feels safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Russia, the sky looks like it does here, endless and clear. I remember laying down in the fields to hide and looking up. I always thought maybe we were all just trapped in some giant’s snow-globe, because of the dome shape.” They both laugh softly at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would ask him to shake us really hard so that maybe I could land somewhere else. Maybe something interesting or nice could finally happen? I don’t know.” Villanelle laughs again and closes her eyes. “Does that count as wishing on stars?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so.” There’s a small, comfortable silence that is filled only by soft breathing and the chirping of crickets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you, Eve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a brief moment, Eve speaks in a soft and slightly distant voice. “When my family moved to Connecticut, I could really see the stars for the first time. It was a small town and the sky was so clear, especially in the winter. It was nothing like the London city I was used to, but I liked the stars so I would stay up really late to watch them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My parents took me to the planetarium a lot because I liked it so much. But after a while, as I got older and none of my wishes came true, I stopped wishing and looking for answers in the stars and started looking in textbooks. I couldn’t find the answers there either. At least not ones I liked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what answers were you looking for, Eve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why I’m different.” Eve replies quietly, gazed still fixed on some distant point on the horizon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle extracts her right hand from her sleeve and extends it to her partner. She delicately laces their fingers together and rubs the back of Eve’s hand with her thumb in silent encouragement to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always knew I was different, when I was little I mean. No one thought the way I did or was fascinated by the same things as me. I had trouble understanding others’ emotions and motives, and I couldn’t relate to many people. As I got older, I got really good at hiding it. I got so good that even I believed that I was just like everyone else. Until I met you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind is cold against Eve’s face, biting at her nose until her skin is pink from it. The bed of the pick-up truck is cold too, and Eve can feel it on her back even through her thick sweater. They’ve been lying like this for a long time, side by side in the bed of a stolen vehicle, hidden off the highway by a swath of trees, and staring up at the stars. Eve isn’t sure if she’ll ever be able to get up again thanks to the chill that’s seeped into her bones, but at least Villanelle is here to try and keep her warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s day two since the incident at the airport and this is perhaps the first time that they’ve been able to catch their breath since. Day one had been a strange combination of singing and later screaming while they struggled to stitch up the bloody wound over Villanelle’s left bicep. Thankfully, after countless curse words and a whole lot of alcohol later, the wound is finally starting to look better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Excluding the necessary detour to patch Villanelle up and get basic supplies, the couple has stayed on the road. Now that there’s decent distance between them and the chaos, and there’s been no sign of anyone following them, the couple has decided to try and get some rest. They agreed that checking into a hotel would be too risky since they’re not sure how The Twelve have been tracking them and they don’t want to be recognized by the police, so the next best thing is the bed of the truck with clothes tucked under their heads as pillows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just about a day's travel from their little highway camping trip to London. They are supposed to be sleeping in shifts to get enough rest for the big day tomorrow, but the beauty of the stars and nerves in their bellies had other ideas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did meeting me change for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything.” Eve squeezes Villanelle’s hand before gently running her lips over the other woman’s knuckles. “You weren’t pretending. You were just yourself. And as I studied you, obsessed even, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I saw myself in you, even though I wasn’t ready to admit it, and I felt like this black smoke was spilling out of me. I had no way of plugging the leak, but I didn’t really want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least you finally admitted that you’re obsessed with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Eve drops Villanelle’s hand and uses her now free palm to slap the other woman’s good arm. “You’re ruining the moment!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re obsessed!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughter sparks from both of them and they roll onto their sides to face each other instead of the inky blackness above them. Villanelle winces only slightly as she uses her injured but healing arm to reach out and tuck the stray strands of Eve’s dark locks behind her ears. She bites the corner of her lip as the laughter drains away from them both and is replaced with seriousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not entirely true though. I was pretending.” Eve looks at her quizzically and Villanelle sighs, hating to admit any form of fear. “I was pretending that I wasn’t scared. When I met you, especially after we first really connected, I was scared to lose you. I didn’t think I’d ever find another woman like me. But there you were, all gorgeous and stunning, trying to catch me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was scared that if you did catch me you wouldn’t want me anymore, but that if you didn’t you would get frustrated or bored and leave me. I guess…” Villanelle bites her lip harder and balls her hands into fists under her sleeves again. “I guess I’ve always been scared of losing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m scared of that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small sigh of relief leaves Villanelle’s lungs before she whispers, “Do you remember that night in your kitchen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The time where you tried to drown me in the bathtub or when you tricked me into thinking the pills were poison?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle grins devilishly. “The bathtub time. And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you just listened to me in the first place.” Eve scoffs at that, making Villanelle smile more. “We ate delicious shepherd's pie and got to know each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would say getting to know each other is a stretch. You came to push my buttons and steal my phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I came to have dinner with you.” Villanelle says with a corresponding wink. She studies the beautiful features of Eve’s face, tracing the path of her cheekbones with her eyes and then fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, baby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Villanelle says with a small shake of her head. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.” Eve blushes under Villanelle’s adoring gaze. “And about that night in your kitchen. When I cried and told you that I wanted to get out of my old life, I don’t think I was lying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “What?” Eve scrunches her eyebrows up in confusion and then horror washes over her expression. “So you weren’t bullshitting me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Villanelle replies with a chuckle. “I absolutely was bullshitting you. But I only thought I was. Now, looking back on it, I think that in my heart I was telling you the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve brings her hand up and cups Villanelle’s cheek. Her palm is cold and soothing against Villanelle’s skin as she rubs gentle circles with her thumb. “You are so complex, Villanelle. I’m going to spend my whole life learning every inch of your wonderful mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve already knows her better than anyone else ever could. She has this way of wiggling herself into all of the previously unknown places of Villanelle’s soul and making herself comfortable. Villanelle went for years without feeling much of anything at all, but then Eve came along with her endless curiosity and beyond gorgeous smile and Villanelle has found herself opening up in ways that she never even knew she could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s hope it is a very long life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With those words, the sense of foreboding that Villanelle had been fairly successful at pushing down comes spiraling up again. It makes her stomach churn and bile threaten to rise in her throat. The more and more she thinks about their situation, the less certain she is that they will both make it out of this mess alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But at least for tonight, under the shining stars and endless expanse of black sky, they can be together. In this moment, Villanelle decides that sleep will be the last thing she gets tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Eve opens her mouth to reply, Villanelle is on her. Soft lips meet in a fire of passion and sudden desperation. Villanelle runs her tongue along the back of Eve’s front teeth and weaves her fingers through dark hair, making the older woman moan. She pulls Eve closer until there is no space between their bodies and it is unclear where one woman ends and the other begins. Even outside of the throws of passion, that line is getting rather blurred. They have become two halves of the same whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle manages to roll, careful to keep the bulk of her weight off of her injured arm, so that she is straddling her lover. Small, slender fingers run under her heavy sweater, tracing the outline of defined muscles, making Villanelle arch into the touch. Eve’s fingers quickly find the pebbled flesh of the scar and she places her palm over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, V.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rapid, shallow breathing and a gentle groan from old, worn metal joins the sounds of the chirping crickets as the couple moves. Villanelle pulls her shirt over her head and leans back towards Eve’s knees so that the older woman can sit up slightly. She then removes Eve’s shirt as well, laying the discarded sweaters beneath Eve to form a sort of blanket bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve falls back down to the bed of the truck, chest rising and falling quickly with anticipation. The night air is practically freezing against her exposed skin, but her center still feels as if it’s on fire. Blonde hair falls softly onto her own cheeks and collar bones as Villanelle leans down again. Eve can feel warm breath on her neck, swiftly followed by reverent kisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sensation makes Eve close her eyes, squeezing them tight as she tilts her head back to grant Villanelle more access. Villanelle takes full advantage of this, covering every inch of golden skin with kisses, bites, and soothing licks while caressing Eve’s breasts. Her nipples have stiffened into peaks, and hardly because of the cold weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle dips her head lower to capture a hardened nipple with her lips. She swirls her tongue over the peak before sucking gently, making them both moan at the sensation. Strong fingers brace the back of her skull, holding Villanelle in place and digging into her scalp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a quick hiss elicited by the shock of pleasure mixed with pain, Villanelle sucks harder. Eve’s body moves like a snake beneath hers, writhing and arching. With her free hand, Villanelle lightly trails her fingertips down the center of Eve’s abdomen. They circle her belly button and stroke the heated flesh just above Eve’s waistband before dipping lower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a loud pop, Villanelle releases Eve’s nipple and tilts her head up to meet her lover’s gaze. Eve’s eyes are as dark as the sky above them and her full lips open with a whine of protest at the loss of contact. Once Villanelle’s fingers hook in the loops of her jeans and gently tug them, along with her underwear, down past her ankles, Eve’s whine turns into a moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman grips Villanelle’s hips and manages to yank the fabric of her pants down. Villanelle stands up on the bed of the truck and finishes the job, smirking as the black fabric of her pants and red lace of her panties land in a heap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve has no words for how absolutely stunning Villanelle looks in this moment. The sight quite simply takes her breath away. Under the soft glow of the moonlight, the contours of Villanelle’s muscles are illuminated, making her appear as if carved from stone. Her blonde hair catches the light in flickering glimmers, causing a sparkling appearance to radiate across the sharp features of her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle looks ethereal, so much so that Eve briefly wonders if this is all just a dream. But then the goddess standing over her lowers herself again so that Eve is pinned between her knees and beneath the soft weight of her. She feels the firm pressure of Villanelle’s lips against her own and the caress of fingertips on her inner thigh and she knows that this is real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve has always wanted her life to be full. Full of adventure, excitement, adrenaline, and love. With Villanelle, Eve has found all of those things and so much more. So, she holds Villanelle closer, entirely unwilling to ever let her go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrapping one leg around Villanelle’s waist, Eve lets out a long moan and tips her head back to the stars. Villanelle’s lips travel lower again and latch on to the previously neglected nipple. She nibbles at it first before sucking firmly, while her hand simultaneously wedges itself further between their aching bodies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slick skin, coated in glistening wetness greets Villanelle’s fingers as she slides them through swollen folds. She brushes her thumb over Eve’s engorged clit until she can feel the tension coiled in the pit of Eve’s stomach about to burst. Then she stops, stills her hand and kisses her lover hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t even be mad at the loss of her impending release because Villanelle is there filling up her senses. She smells the remnants of the rubbing alcohol used to clean the wound, she tastes cherry cola on Villanelle’s tongue, and she hears the pounding of her own heartbeat mixed with heavy breathing from them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could stay like this forever.” Villanelle whispers with her voice full of devotion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without any warning, Villanelle slips two fingers deep inside Eve’s pulsating center. She pushes all the way inside until her knuckles are buried in wet heat. She savors the sensation of warm walls clamping down around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle!” Eve cries up to the black void. Her eyes spring open and then squeeze shut again, but she is still seeing stars behind her eyelids. “Fuck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle loves it when Eve curses. It fuels some animal instinct inside of her to claim and mark her territory, making her latch on to the crook of Eve’s neck and suck until the skin there becomes splotched with purple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of skin pounding against wet skin then fills both of their ears as Villanelle pulls her fingers all the way out before slamming back in again. She starts up a brutal pace, thrust after thrust making Eve’s body shake and jerk against the bed of the truck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle rocks her hips in time, grinding herself down to relieve some of the ache between her own legs. It’s not nearly enough, but Eve’s growing moans and screams of pleasure are only adding fuel to the fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it baby, say my name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without hesitation, more curses tumble from Eve’s lips and she chants Villanelle’s name over and over. The younger woman adds a third finger, reveling in the way Eve’s walls stretch to accommodate her. Eve’s leg tightens around her waist, pulling them even closer and tilting herself at such an angle that drives Villanelle even deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yes, Villanelle right there! VILLANELLE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Galaxies explode behind Eve’s eyelids as ripples of pure pleasure crash from her head to her toes and back again. She’s clamped down so hard on Villanelle’s hand that the younger woman can’t thrust anymore, but she curls her fingers up and down, pressing against trembling muscles to drag out every possible second of Eve’s earth shatter orgasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a long time before Eve comes back to earth, and when she does she’s nearly tipped over again by Villanelle slowly removing her fingers. Villanelle holds her three glistening digits up to the moonlight, as if to show Eve what a good job she did, before sucking them into her mouth. They both moan, Villanelle from the taste and Eve from the raw erotisism of the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You taste so good baby.” Villanelle licks the length of her pointer after removing it from her mouth with a pop. Long, wet, slender fingers are then extended, brushing across Eve’s bottom lip. “Suck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Eve starts with the tips, lavishing her tongue over the surface before taking all three into her mouth. She closes her eyes and moans again as she feels Villanelle’s hips begin to rock again. Villanelle lets Eve suck every last drop away before dragging her fingers from her mouth and down to rest on Eve’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While making eye contact, Eve takes two of her own fingers in her mouth and begins to suck eagerly. Villanelle bites the corner of her lip and reaches her hands up to pinch her own nipples, the rocking of her hips increasing by the second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they are thoroughly coated, Eve brings her fingers down to where their two bodies meet. Their skin is slick from sweat yet raised with goosebumps and Eve loves the feel of it under her opposite palm as she brings it to tap Villanelle’s lower back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle gets the message and carefully lifts herself up slightly so that Eve can get her hand completely between them. Her chest tightens with anticipation before she lowers herself down again, taking two of Eve’s fingers deep inside of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it baby, that’s my good girl.” Eve coos as Villanelle closes her eyes against the full feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes a moment to adjust, falling forward so that her arms are braced on either side of Eve’s head. Eve uses her free arm to wrap around Villanelle and gently scratch her nails up and down the rippling muscles of her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby.” Eve’s voice is deep and commanding, yet still comforting and full of love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle gasps at Eve’s words and from the corresponding curl of Eve’s fingers. She starts rocking back and forth, lifting her hips up and grinding back down onto Eve until she is full again. Wetness seeps down her thighs, coating both her legs and Eve’s abdomen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a good girl! You look so fucking beautiful riding my fingers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle has no idea how she got herself in this position. She is physically on top of Eve, yet Eve is controlling her in a way that makes her head spin and her muscles ache. She tips her head back and moans up to the moon, long and deep, as she moves faster and faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You feel amazing, baby. I love seeing you like this. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, right baby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Eve!” Villanelle manages to say between moans. Her hair is stuck to the back of her neck from sweat and her pupils are blown wide. “I’m all yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve growls in approval and lifts her thumb so that it hits Villanelle’s clit every time her body bounces back down. “That’s my good girl! I want you to cum for me, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The combination of Eve’s words and the addition of pressure to her clit, sends immeasurable pleasure coursing through Villanelle’s veins. She throws herself down as hard as she can against Eve again and again, and after a few more thrusts, her body becomes rigid and her mouth opens in a silent scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve continues to whisper to her through every wonderful second, calling Villanelle a good girl and saying how much she loves her. It’s when Eve says that she’ll never leave her that Villanelle gets completely ruined. She crumbles forward to rest her cheek against the scar on Eve’s shoulder and drinks in the familiar scent of her lover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s breathing is uneven and her body is still trembling as she whispers, “I love you so much, Eve. I swear on my life that I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was the last chance for our girls to have some breathing room before we are deep in endgame territory, so I wanted to take the chance to have some more soft and sexy murder girlfriends here. Plus inspiration struck so I ran with it. As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you think! Ch. 16 will hopefully be up this weekend but no promises. If I stick to my outline, it looks like there will be about 18 chapters plus and epilogue but we shall see.<br/>You guys are the best!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Murder At The Neon Nights Motel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you guys for your patience with this one. It's pretty long so I hope that makes up for the short delay. I really can't thank you enough for all of the comments, they make my stressful days so much better!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle’s favorite part of their whole scheme is the shopping. Ever since she was a little girl she’s loved any opportunity to get dressed up and put on some sort of a costume. Typically, the more elegant and glamorous the better, but in certain scenarios Villanelle has come to appreciate the effectiveness of understatement. The outfit has to match the crime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For this particular mission, she is aiming somewhere in the middle. They need to look spectacular, not that that’s hard for her, but they also need functional attire. It would be difficult to slit someone’s throat while wearing a constricting, skin tight latex dress. Not that she hasn’t done it before, several times actually, but the added level of finesse is an extra step they just don’t need right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So with a heavy sigh, Villanelle puts the bright red garment back on the rack. She runs her fingertips over the fabric longingly before whispering, “I’ll be back for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on.” Eve says with a chuckle as she tugs Villanelle by the wrist over to the next rack of expensive clothing. “You’re being ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, Eve? Don't you want to see me in such a revealing, beautiful outfit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I absolutely do, but maybe after we’re done fighting for our lives?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle smirks and leans in so that her nose brushes against the curve of Eve’s ear. “After this, I promise I’ll buy the most luxurious lingerie I can find and I’ll let you fuck me with it on. Then you can rip every inch of it off of me with your teeth and fuck me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little squeak escapes from Eve’s lips and her mouth goes completely dry as all the moisture in her body pools elsewhere. A shiver of joy spirals down Villanelle’s spine at the reaction and she grins even wider. She pulls away from Eve, immediately missing the closeness but delighted in the way that Eve moves subconsciously to follow. They are two perfect magnets and Villanelle is more than happy to be a part of the dance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sparkle of silver catches Villanelle’s eye though and she is immediately drawn to the rack. She skips over as Eve trails behind. “Look at this one!” Villanelle grabs the hanger of a glittery blouse and holds it up over Eve’s torso. “You would look amazing in this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve appraises the garment and shrugs. “I don’t really do glitter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle rolls her eyes hard and pouts dramatically. “I’m sorry you can’t wear your boring grey turtlenecks and sweatpants to an upscale casino!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve furrows her eyebrows as she turns away and begins to thumb through the next rack. Grumbling something under her breath as she looks that sounds like, “Brat.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle laughs and continues her search as well. It’s easy for her to talk about sex and make little teasing jokes to distract herself from the continually building worry in her chest. But now with the silence between them, Villanelle’s mind is consumed with it again, even while shopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had made it to London early this morning without any more incidents like the airport.  Just as the sun began to peak over the smaller buildings of the city’s skyline, they dumped their stolen pick-up truck off the highway, hidden as much as possible behind some brush and a billboard. They walked until they could hail a cab and headed straight towards the heart of the city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their first stop was retrieving the duffle bag filled with Eve’s important items, a copious amount of weapons, and some cash. Thankfully, it was still safely tucked away in the locker at the gym. Once that was secure, they booked a room at the nice hotel across the street from the Vixen’s Den. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Plaza Hotel is the opposite of their rental in Ireland, which was all soft and comfortable. This is much more modern and contemporary. It’s furniture and décor all boast clean, sharp lines and the color pallet is mostly metallic. Eve had felt like a sore thumb sticking out against all the harsh angels, but once they were safely behind the closed door of their room with Villanelle kissing her deeply, Eve felt right at home. Anywhere where they are together feels like home now; whether it be a cozy Scottish cottage, the Irish seaside, the back of a pick-up truck, or a fancy hotel. Being together is what matters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now they’re searching through the racks of Dover Street Market and Villanelle’s mind is racing again. She absent mindedly strokes the outline of the scar across her abdomen and bites the corner of her lip. Usually shopping and getting dressed up can take her mind off of even the worst situations, but as she glances at Eve over her shoulder her stomach twists up in knots. She can’t lose her, she just can’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s foot begins to bounce as she looks through the clothes, not really connecting with any of them. Eve notices the nervous tick exhibited by her partner and comes over to wrap her arms around Villanelle’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong, baby? You love shopping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>love shopping.” Villanelle chews her lip and sighs, “And I really love you… Maybe you shouldn’t come tomorrow? I can go in alone and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t even entertain letting Villanelle finish that sentence. “No. No way! I’m going with you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle frowns and her shoulders slump slightly at the conviction in Eve’s words. “But what if you get hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might, but I know you’ll do your best not to let that happen. And I won’t let you get hurt either. We are going to watch the place until we know if Helene is even in there, go in together, get the job done, and come out together. End of story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further protest dies on Villanelle’s tongue. She remembers the look in Eve’s dark eyes when they had killed Dasha together, then again how that look had intensified with the sniper. Eve is wearing a similar expression now, but with a little bit more concern etched into it. She knows that at the end of the day there will be no convincing Eve to change her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then Carolyn will give us our way out, The Twelve will think we’re dead, and you and I can go do whatever we want. Just you and I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle leans her forehead down to press against Eve’s and whispers, “Just you and I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Besides, I can’t let you have all the fun.” Eve replies with an off-handed chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is pretty sure that the only actually fun part of the whole experience will be getting dressed up with Eve. It certainly won’t be dealing with the various security measures and armed guards. Though Villanelle has the distinct feeling that that is exactly the kind of fun that Eve is referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure this is worth it? Ivan said they want you alive. You can work for The Twelve, not that I recommended that, or I’m sure Carolyn would hire you again. You can have all kinds of fun adventures with them. You have other options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t miss a beat as she responds without hesitation. “I only want fun adventures if you’re there to share them with me. You’ve always been the only real option from the start, V.” Eve tips her chin up to capture Villanelle’s soft lips in a quick, loving kiss. She smiles into the embrace before pulling away slightly. “Now, come help me pick out what I should wear because clearly this turtleneck kind of woman has no idea what she’s doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I am an expert.” Villanelle chuckles softly, fears put to rest for a moment, and she guides Eve over to a mannequin that catches her attention. “Maybe I could have been a fashion designer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not too late.” Eve says comfortingly. “I’ll be your first client.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle grins again, spirits thoroughly lifted. “I love you in navy blue, it really compliments your skin tone, but I would kill to see you in this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She points a long finger up to an emerald green suit made of fine satin. Shimmering gold silk adorns the lapels, collar, and cuffs, and matching gold buttons run up the length to meet a plunging neckline. The fit of the garment is loose, yet hugs right below the breasts and across the hips to accentuate a full figure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve gasps as she takes in the ensemble, then again louder when she sees the price tag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just try it on!” Villanelle swats the price tag out of Eve’s hand and picks up the outfit from the display besides the mannequin. “Please! Be a good client.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is hesitant to even touch it, but Villanelle looks so excited that Eve can’t help but indulge her, at least a little bit. She rubs her palms against the fabric of her jeans as if to clean them first, before gingerly taking the clothes from Villanelle. “I guess trying it on won’t hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle claps her hands together and does a little spin of victory that Eve finds absolutely adorable. “Thank you! I know you’ll look amazing.” Eve blushes at the compliment given in Villanelle’s endearing accent, and follows her lover off to the fitting room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Villanelle is right, it looks fucking stunning. Eve simply stares at herself in the mirror of the changing room for a long time. She’s always been more practical in her clothing choices, only ever getting dressed up for special occasions and often choosing comfort over style. Of course finances always played a major role in her fashion choices too. She smooths her hands over the satin in disbelief that something so elegant could look so good on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle has to knock on the door impatiently to get Eve to come out. Her jaw hits the floor once she sees the luxurious green fabric draped over her girlfriend’s golden skin. “We’re getting that.” Villanelle’s voice leaves no room for debate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Eve tries to protest, albeit weakly, but before she can fully finish a sentence Villanelle is stalking to the counter to buy the suit. They continue to browse through the store until Villanelle finds the perfect compliment to Eve’s look, which is also obscenely expensive. Villanelle knows they are supposed to be saving money, but what if this is the last outfit she ever gets to wear? Can’t risk dying in anything less than perfection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they leave the store and walk together through the bustling London streets, Eve’s mind is buzzing from nerves and excitement for what the night might bring. A million questions circle her brain about what the security will look like, how many guards Helene will have around her, and how many people they may need to kill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She allows her mind its wandering, content to let her lover lead the way. Villanelle’s fingers are laced tightly through hers and provide the only truly solid platform for Eve right now. She grips a little harder to stay somewhat grounded, and smiles when Villanelle glances back at her with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just thinking.” is all Eve can say, but she gives her girlfriend another reassuring hand squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they’re safely back at the hotel, Villanelle busies herself with hanging up their new clothing so as to prevent any wrinkles, while Eve sets up a post by the window. She slides the small couch over and grabs some pillows from the bed to make herself comfortable. Cradling a glass of wine, Eve opens only two of the blinds so that she can peer out without anyone really being able to see in. The casino isn’t far enough away to need binoculars, but it’s not particularly close either, so Eve needs to squint slightly. The building is also wide, so it’s hard to focus on both entrances at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done yet, V? I can watch the front and you can watch the back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming boss.” Villanelle replies sarcastically before plopping herself down next to Eve with a heavy thud. She situates herself so that her head rests on the arm of the couch and throws her feet across Eve’s lap. “Should I call you Kill Commander again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both laugh and Eve rolls her eyes. She doesn’t say no though and that isn’t lost on Villanelle. It’s not long before Eve’s stomach lets out a tiny grumble, prompting them to order a pizza. Eve absentmindedly strokes the curves of Villanelle’s calves as they wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a comfortable several hours that stretch by with very little interesting activity, except for the pepperoni pizza which is delicious. Villanelle, who would usually be trying her best to distract Eve to do something more fun, lounges quietly as they watch the doors. She’s half hoping that they don’t see Helene, so that she can drag her time with Eve out a little longer just in case things go south. Her muscles are coiled with the tension caused by anticipation, but Eve’s hands have slowly been working to release those knots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when she’s thinking maybe Dasha was lying, the back door of the Vixen’s Den swings open. This time, it is not a staff member stepping out for a cigarette break, it’s the all too familiar form of the international crime boss who wants her dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene stands tall in heels that easily clear several inches. Her black suit with it’s white trim is classically elegant and of course not a single hair on her head is out of place. At the sight of her, Villanelle springs up to a standing position and grits her teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s her!” She says through a growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar rage begins to boil in the pit of her stomach as she watches the woman step out of the doorway. Helene is the one who sent Ivan and the snipers, she’s the reason why they can’t just disappear, she’s the real monster here!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.” Eve says as she sits straight up. “She looks like a bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small amount of rage slips away with Eve’s joke and a crooked smile covers Villanelle’s pink lips. “That’s because she is. She is the worst, Eve! It was a very toxic work environment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both chuckle at that, further diffusing the tension in the room, but the relief is short lived. They watch as Helene moves along the sidewalk to make room for someone else to exit the doorway. A round, tall figure slowly comes into view, face obscured in shadows. The dark jacket with shiny silver buttons and many pockets is immediately recognizable. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking Konstantin.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As he steps out of the shadows, the nearby street light illuminates his white beard and jovial smile, making a terrible sickly feeling surge in the pit of Villanelle’s stomach. All of the blood drains from her face and her hands begin to tremble. She quickly balls them into fists, letting her nails dig hard crescent moons into the soft flesh there. She wants to scream, to pound holes into the wall and windows until glass covers the floor. She wants to then jump through the shattered window, charge across the street, and squeeze both of their necks until their lips are purple and their skin is cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could do it. They would be dead before they knew what happened. Villanelle sees all of this playing out in her minds eye and the only thing that stops her poised muscles from carrying out the fantasy is a gentle hand on her shoulder. With that one touch, Villanelle’s vision zips back to the present, just in time to see Konstantin hand her beloved pair of headphones over to Helene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to kill him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, Villanelle thought she was the one who spoke. The steely determination and bluntness reminded her so much of how she used to sound, but the accent is all wrong. With wrinkled eyebrows she turns to face her lover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s gaze is cold and unwavering. If looks could kill, this would be the one. She narrows her eyes further as Helene passes Konstantin an envelope in exchange for the headphones. “I’m going to kill him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene enters the casino again, while Konstantin starts off down the alleyway. He glances over his shoulder at least a dozen times and stuffs the envelope into his jacket pocket. His pace is brisk and he seems to be muttering to himself as he goes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Eve says as she grabs her dark green jacket by the door. “We should follow him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both throw on their shoes and close the hotel door behind them without a second thought. Villanelle’s heart is pounding in her chest as they leave the building. Feelings of betrayal and anger boil under her skin, threatening to spill over at any moment. She bites the inside of her cheek and squeezes her eyes closed for a second to ward off the tears of frustration hiding just below her eyelids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle had trusted him! She thought that maybe, just maybe, he had genuinely cared about her. He had told her about her family in Russia and helped her get there, for a price of course, but then he had offered a way out for both of them and she was two steps away from taking him up on it. It was probably a trap and she feels stupid for even considering it, even stupider for wanting his affection in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” Villanelle hisses under her breath, that one word seething with enough poison to kill. “We can’t let him get away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t.” Eve says confidently. Villanelle is surprised by the conviction in Eve’s voice and it reassures her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s about 8pm on a Friday night so the streets are busy, which helps them stay hidden, but also helps Konstantin blend in. They’re able to follow at a safe distance for several blocks but it’s getting harder by the minute. Thankfully, Konstantin takes a sharp turn towards a seedier part of town with less people on the streets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only another minute before he approaches a run down looking motel. A neon “No Vacancy” sign hangs over the main building at an angle, with only every other letter lit up in bright, blinking red. There’s a concrete swimming pool devoid of any water, surrounded by a broken, rusty gate off to the left. To the right there’s a row of five separate rooms, each with a yellowed door mat stating “Welcome” in faded black letters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle and Eve duck behind the dumpster as Konstantin reaches into his coat pocket and removes a key. He turns and surveys the area to make sure he is alone before inserting the key and entering room number 5.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Faster than lightning, Villanelle sprints across the parking lot and catches the door with less than an inch to spare before it closes. Eve is only a couple of steps behind her and the two of them barrel their way into the room. Konstantin screams, jumping a few inches off the ground in his surprise and gripping his chest tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can’t help but laugh at the familiar sight of a frightened Konstantin. Her heart clenches from the memories of the numerous times she had jumped out from hiding spots just to get this very reaction out of him. It doesn’t feel nearly as fun now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice sounds hollow when she speaks, “I got you!” It’s an echo to that day so long ago right before she met Eve for the first time. “Admit it, I got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you trying to give me a heart attack!” Konstantin pants as he tries to catch his breath, still clutching at his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An induced heart attack would be a great way to kill someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older man narrows his eyes at Eve and grimaces. “I’d expect that from someone like her, but not you, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know either of us very well then do you, you fucking rat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Konstantin just tips his head to the side in acknowledgment before standing up straight again. “I guess not. Can I get either of you a drink?” He gestures to a small, rickety bar cart, with a half empty bottle of vodka and two smudged glasses on top. When he makes a move to walk over to it, Villanelle reaches out and grabs the collar of his jacket. She holds it so tightly that her knuckles are white and shaking. Konstantin just looks down at her hand with amused eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thank you. The last time we were in this situation you spat vodka at me and hit me over the head with a log!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep, rolling laughter bubbles up from Konstantin but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It left quite the bruise.” He points to her forehead. “But you deserved it. You took my daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the mention of Irina, Villanelle quickly scans the tiny room. There’s no suitcases or clothing scattered around, no cups or plates except for the two on the bar cart, and there’s no charging ports plugged into any of the visible outlets. She assesses that Irina is not here and probably never has been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is the little sausage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was safer when you were the one who took her.” The pain is obvious in Konstantin’s voice and Villanelle can’t help the tiny spark of anguish that flares to life when she hears it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She throws him forcefully by the collar, as if burned, and crosses her arms over her chest defensively. Konstantin has to scramble a little to sit upright due to how Villanelle shoved him, but he straightens his jacket with a huff and folds his arms together. Eve positions herself at the foot of the bed, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Twelve took your daughter?” Eve says, almost to herself. She has a slightly far away look in her eye, the same one she gets when she’s putting all the pieces of an intricate puzzle together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. She killed her stepfather the same night I went up to fetch her for Cuba. It’s a long story, but she went from police custody right into The Twelve’s hands and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t leave her with them! So I’m doing what I have to do to keep her safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why were you with Helene tonight? How did you get Villanelle’s headphones?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is glad that Eve is the one asking the questions. All the questions she can think of are too personal and the answers will surely hurt too badly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only way my daughter and I can go is if I give them the money that I stole back, which I already did, and if Helene gets you two. They are probably going to kill me regardless, but I have to try for Irina’s sake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope they kill you.” Villanelle spits out. “I hope they make Irina watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Konstantin closes his eyes, seeming to shiver at the thought, and rubs his forehead. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I really did intend for us to leave together, Villanelle. You, me, Irina, and Eve. We should all be in Cuba right now, not this shit hole!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve has always been an intuitive, insightful person. She can spot a lie from a mile away. She can feel in her bones that Konstantin is not lying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can sense the truth in her mentor's words too, even though she doesn’t want to. She grits her teeth and clenches her jaw. “But we are not family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Konstantin says with a sigh. “We are not family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t explain the headphones.” Eve quips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I gave them to Villanelle as a gift, right before she went to Russia. I was afraid that her family reunion would not be a happy one so I put a tracker in them. It was just for her sake at the time, and The Twelve knew nothing about it. I was worried about you. But then they got Irina and I had a way to find you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t worry about anyone but yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t give Konstantin a chance to reply before continuing. “That’s how they found us in Kinsale. And how they were waiting for us outside of the airport.” Konstantin nods his head slowly. “But Villanelle left them on the plane and someone stole them. That’s the only reason we’ve had these last few days of peace, because The Twelve were following some idiot thief instead of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. It didn’t end well for the thief and it probably won’t end well for you either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably.” Eve deadpans. She turns to face Villanelle, who is chewing her lip and bouncing her knee slightly. “But the game isn’t over yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve gently places her hand on Villanelle’s shoulder in a show of support towards her lover. Villanelle leans into the touch slightly and closes her eyes for a brief moment. A wave of sadness, quickly followed by anger, washes over her. In the end, Konstantin is just another disappointment in the very long list of disappointing people in her life. She wishes she had never met Konstantin, never let him into her heart for even a fraction of a second, but the damage is done and there is no way to go back. Only forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s fingers find the pearl handle of her switchblade in her pocket. She curls her hand around the cold material, gripping it tightly enough to hurt. She pulls the weapon from her pocket and pops the blade out, delighted in the way Konstantin flinches. The dim light in the room bounces off the shiny metal, casting a glare that falls over Konstantin's chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why shouldn’t I kill you right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Konstantin shrugs. He looks tired, more tired than Villanelle has ever seen him. The dark bags under his eyes hang low and his thinning hair is a mess over his ears. His eyes are sunken in and his skin is pale and grey. “You probably should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Eve chimes in as she sweeps her arms across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m supposed to be meeting someone here at 9pm. It’s 8:45 now, so you should make your decision about killing me quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who? It’s not Carolyn, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Konstantin says with an almost sad little chuckle. “It’s her boss, Paul. He’s been with The Twelve for forever. I’m supposed to get my next set of instructions from him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does she know that her boss works for The Twelve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think at this point Carolyn suspects absolutely everyone she meets works for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve regards Konstantin, looking the old man up and down with disdain. Her eyes are narrow, skeptical, and she tips her head to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve.” Villanelle nods her head towards the clock on the wall and her fingers twitch around the extended blade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One more question.” Konstantin groans and looks towards Eve. “What happened to Kenny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question seems to surprise Konstantin. The tiredness slips away from his worn face for a second to be replaced with nervousness. “Why do you think I know anything about Carolyn’s son?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you do.” Eve’s words are direct and final. After a moment of intense eye contact between her and Konstantin, his wrinkled cheeks turn up in a grin as he laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,  you know what, that's the reason you shouldn’t kill me yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle groans with exasperation and distress. “We do not have time for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods quickly in agreement and pulls out her phone, continuing to make eye contact with Konstantin the entire time. On the second ring, the annoyed voice of her former boss greets her ears. “Hello, Carolyn it’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, yes I know it’s you. Please hurry up and get on with it, I’m in the middle of something quite important. I don’t have the time to bail you out of another unfortunate predicament.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to be at the Neon Nights Motel in 10 minutes, room number 5.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t travel to that part of town even-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is the one to cut her off this time, the urgency apparent in her tone. “It’s about Kenny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long second of silence before she replies. “I’ll be right there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn Martens walks into room number 5 of the Neon Nights Motel at precisely 8:58pm. Her heels give a muffled click against the stained shag carpet as she enters, and she doesn’t disguise her sigh of disgust as she looks around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Konstantin. I should have expected to see you here.” Carolyn’s voice is clipped and professional as she nods towards her former flame. She then turns to Villanelle, the slightest semblance of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “And wherever Eve may be I certainly expect to see you as well, Villanelle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is still gripping the handle of her switch blade tightly in her right hand, the tip extended towards Konstantin to keep him in his place on the bed. “Hello, boss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Konstantin chuckles at that and smiles towards Carolyn. “Boss? She is not worth the HR paperwork, I promise you that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve can’t help herself. Without thinking, she drives the end of her foot as hard as she can into Konstantin’s shin. The insult to her partner was too much for her to let slide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A string of Russian curses spill from Konstantin’s lips as he rubs at his injured leg. Villanelle shoots Eve a grin of amusement while Carolyn just looks at her with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough shit out of you, Konstantin. You know what really happened to Kenny, so start talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn’s full attention returns to Konstantin and her expression is grave. “Yes, start talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but in about one minute Paul is going to walk through that door and cause some trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle positions herself in front of the window, directly across from the door. She is hidden by the closed blinds and long, orange curtains. Eve smiles to herself as she notices Villanelle lean away from the fabric so as to avoid touching it. She moves the aim of her knife from Konstantin to the doorway and grins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even a full minute later, the motel room door is being thrown open by a beady eyed, older man wearing a very expensive suit. Before he can fully take in the scene in front of him, Villanelle has the knife pressed to his throat. He lets out a strangled squeak, one that is not at all unlike that of a mouse, and Villanelle throws him onto the bed beside Konstantin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn?” Paul tries to sound dignified but fails miserably. “What is the meaning of this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The senior MI6 agent sighs. “It really is a shame that the mole is always the one that looks most like a rat. I’ve suspected you from the start, Paul so you might as well get comfortable.” Carolyn grits her teeth and her tone changes to threatening. “Konstantin here was just about to tell me exactly what happened to my son. I’m sure it’s a story you’ve already heard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes.” Konstantin says with a chuckle. “He is the one who wrote it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you killed him!” Paul shrieks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn’s face remains unchanging as she reaches into her coat pocket and draws a gun. She grips it comfortably, like the feeling is not foreign to her, and raises it to point between the two. Eve’s and Villanelle’s eyes travel between the three people like they are watching a tennis match. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was Konstantin!” Paul starts, practically fumbling over himself. “The Twelve ordered him to recruit Kenny, but he killed him instead!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No” Konstantin thunders. “I did not kill him!” Konstantin slides off the bed and falls to his knees, hanging his head before Carolyn. “They did order me to recruit him. There was no one better with the internet then him. He could trace anyone, find anything, no records he couldn’t access. So yes, The Twelve wanted him for themselves. They sent me to talk to him. I swear, all I did was talk! But he got scared...” Konstantin’s voice cracks slightly. “He kept backing away from me and I tried to stop him but he tripped. I tried to catch him but… it was too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a split second the gun wavers in Carolyn’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul is the one who ordered me to recruit Kenny. I tried to save him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul holds his hands up as if in surrender. His face is even paler than when he had the knife pressed to his neck. “I was asked from above to order the recruitment, and I certainly did not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Paul can say another word, the speech center of his brain is ripped in two. Blood splatters the black bedspread, it splashes across the white pillows and pools on the grey shag carpet. Eve leans forward with morbid fascination to watch as his lifeless body crumbles to a pile on the floor. His blue eyes are open as he lays there, and Eve is reminded of something Villanelle said to her long ago. She thinks her lover is right, the soul really does just shrink inward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s eyes don’t meet the body on the floor. Her gaze is fixed on the gun now leveled at Konstantin’s head. She’s holding her breath, half of her unable to wait until the trigger is pulled on her former mentor, and the other half desperate to turn away. Neither half is satisfied as Konstantin starts to sniffle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please Carolyn, I love you! Don’t you know that, don’t you know that I would never hurt your son?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The carefully constructed mask that Carolyn has always kept so neatly in place shatters. Her eyes become red rimmed and filled with tears and her entire body starts to shake. However, in stark contrast with her appearance, her voice is unwavering, laced with ice and hatred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you would have figured it out by now Konstantin. He was your son too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Recognition flashes across Konstantin’s eyes. His jaw opens, but whether to reply or simply gasp they will never know. Carolyn pulls the trigger. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, what do you think? I remember watching the show and thinking that it was so out of character for Carolyn not to kill Konstantin. I'm hoping that they fix that in season 4 but it looks like we'll have a long wait until we find out. This upcoming week is going to be tough for me with school work. This bitch has a lab practical, a research paper, and three exams all in the next 6 days so wish me luck! I hope to publish ch. 17 by next Sunday.<br/>Please keep commenting and send good vibes my way! Love you all &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Straight On Till Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the slight delay with this one; my wife fell down the stairs while holding our dog today. Thankfully, neither have any major injuries, but it still warranted a trip to the ER for a few hours. Anyway, without further ado- enjoy chapter 17!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Laughter mixed with a strangled scream escapes from Villanelle’s lips before she can contain herself. By the time Konstantin’s lifeless body comes to land on the stain-splotched, grey carpet, she has her palm pressed over her mouth in an attempt to force the strange noises back in. But it doesn’t work. The blood gushing from a perfect circle in the middle of his forehead pools at Villanelle’s feet as more laughter screaming slips through her fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s aware of her shoulders shaking and palms trembling, but is not completely sure as to why. Konstantin deserved this, just like her mother had, so why does seeing a blank canvas behind his eyes sting so badly? Moments ago she had been prepared to be the one to cause the shrinking of Konstantin’s soul to fit the cold, empty expanse of death, but now everything just feels wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This tiny, disgusting motel room suddenly feels far too similar to her childhood home; the home that she burned to the ground with most of her family trapped inside. There’s no fire here, yet with the agonal breaths and finger twitches from her mentor’s corpse, Villanelle gets the distinct sensation of thick smoke choking her lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle tips her head back, eyes glued on the popcorn ceiling as more laughter rolls off her tongue. She gasps between fits of it, desperate for air to provide any semblance of relief, but that only makes it worse. The air smells of copper, heavily tinged with blood. It only furthers her deranged laughter and the building feeling of nausea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gentle touch from a small yet strong hand is what pulls Villanelle back to reality, if only slightly. The smoke clears enough for her to take a steadying, deep breath as Eve’s smooth skin glides across her arm. Villanelle refocuses her eyes towards the rest of the room again, careful to keep her gaze from the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you imagine? Dying on that carpet? What a tragedy!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s heart clenches as she talks, voice echoing what Konstantin had said to her over a year ago in a much nicer hotel room than this. He would have been proud of her for remembering. Was he ever really proud of her anything though? Villanelle likes to think so, but she’ll never truly know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn, who has remained perfectly still up until this point, with her arm extended, gripping the gun, aiming at a person who has already fallen, turns her head to look at Villanelle with raised eyebrows. She then glances down to the truly hideous carpet and a grin spreads slowly across her cheeks from ear to ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is rather ghastly, isn’t it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roarous laughter takes over Carolyn’s usual poised body. She doubles over with it, wiping at her eyes even with the gun still in hand.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve looks back and forth between her girlfriend, former boss, and the two dead bodies growing cold on the motel floor. She mouths, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to no one in particular, but can’t bring herself to actually say anything. The excitement in her chest feels too out of place to be voiced between the other two women who have clearly cracked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several more minutes pass with nothing but deranged laughter and gasps for air before Eve tentatively talks. “We need to get out of here.” She intertwines her fingers with her partner’s and squeezes gently to provide some form of support. “Before the police come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like that, Carolyn’s back snaps straight up and her face molds into that unreadable expression she has so well practiced. She smooths the wrinkles in her plum blouse and tucks the murder weapon into the inside pocket of her expensive peacoat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She says with a nod, looking exactly like the proper government agent Eve knew her to be. That image has been thoroughly shattered though. No matter how professional Carolyn looks again, Eve will never be able to see her without the gun in her hand and blood splattered across her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is the first one to actually move. She tells herself it’s just her assassin training kicking in, but really she’s just desperate to get away from the bloated corpse of someone she used to care about. She wanted to kill him. He sold her out and used her so many times she had lost count. Yet, she can’t bring herself to look at him like this anymore. Her feet carry her swiftly to the door, dragging Eve behind her while being mindful to avoid the blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Eve screeches as she lets go of Villanelle’s hands and turns on her heels. She bends down over Konstantin’s corpse and pulls the envelope from Helene out of his pocket, somehow managing to keep her hands free of blood in the process. “Could be important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn nods in approval before leading the way for the three of them down the closest street. Even in this seedier part of town, gun shots are a reason to call the police, and every minute spent laughing around dead bodies is a minute closer to getting caught. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The senior MI6 agent buries her hands in her pockets and smiles back at the other two women. “So, lets have this meeting on the move shall we. I suppose there is a bit to discuss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meetings have biscuits.” Villanelle says with a pout, making Eve chuckle and roll her eyes affectionately. “This is just a simple conversation among fellow murderers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s heart stops for a beat as she realizes the implications of Villanelle’s words. Of course they’re true, but to put it so bluntly in front of her former boss is more than a little unnerving. She scans Carolyn’s features for any reaction, but the older woman doesn’t even spare Eve a glance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, I don’t think I need to tell you that what you just saw did not happen. Am I clear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crystal.” Eve replies quickly while Villanelle mimes zipping up her lips and throwing away the key. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gesture makes Eve chuckle slightly but she is now used to Villanelle’s tendency to cover up her emotions with humor, sarcasm, or sex. She has a feeling that this is one of those times, so she intertwines her fingers with her lover’s again and kisses the back of her knuckles. Eve wishes she could communicate with Villanelle that being upset over what just happened is completely normal, and that it’s okay for her to be sad even though they were going to kill him anyway. However, right now is definitely not the best time for that conversation, so she kisses Villanelle’s knuckles again in an attempt to get the message across telepathically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve wonders just how many jaws those prolific knuckles have struck. The thought sends shivers down her spine, the enjoyable variety, and she has to bite her lip to refocus on this mobile meeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, would you please open the envelope already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve drops Villanelle’s hand and she can feel how her partner stiffens with the loss of contact. As quickly as possible, Eve rips the white paper and pulls out the single document inside. “It’s in Russian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every fiber of Villanelle’s being hates her mother tongue. The sound of it rolling from her lips is no less than nails on a chalkboard to her. But curiosity gets the better of Villanelle and she snatches the paper from Eve’s hands before Carolyn can grab it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Squinting her eyes to see in the dim streetlights, Villanelle reads it to herself first and then out loud. She does her best, but her voice still wavers when she finally talks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Papa, I am still alive but no thanks to you. They treat me well enough here but they won’t let me see the sun or have any real fun. Still, I guess it is better than the hospital you had me locked up in. At least I don’t have to go to boring, stupid therapy here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When are you coming to get me? The people who bring me food and stuff say that you are working hard for them again, but I thought you were retiring? You are certainly old enough. I think you should just retire. Or you can die. Either is fine with me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They say I have to write in a way that you’ll know it’s me. Was that convincing enough? Anyway, I hope to see you soon, Papa. Love, Irina (your little sausage)”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle has to fight the urge to shred the letter once she’s done. Envy, sadness, hurt, and a strange, shallow emptiness fill her up until there is no space left. Konstantin never got to read this. He’ll never know that his daughter’s last words to him were of love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle wonders what her last words to her real father were. She racks her brain, straining to remember something that isn’t there. It’s like looking through frosted glass. She can see hazy outlines through the barrier, but any details of the memory are too blurry to make out clearly. The tightness in her chest gets worse with this, squeezing at her ribs until she feels as if they might crack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all?” Carolyn’s icy voice is like cold water to the face, snapping Villanelle back to the present. Honestly, neither her head nor the present is a particularly enjoyable place to be right now. But at least Eve is here with her, and wherever Eve is Villanelle will follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flips the paper over to reveal a curious message, clearly in different handwriting than Irina’s chicken scratch. “It’s coded, but I think it’s coordinates. Maybe for Irina or another job?” Villanelle hands Carolyn the letter and once her hands are free she promptly balls them into fists that hang at her sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you able to do anything to help her?” Eve asks while Carolyn examines the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” She replies noncommittally. “But that is not the priority right now. Paul and Konstantin would have had to check in with someone at some point, insure the meeting went well, discuss plans or what-have-you. Obviously, they will not be doing that and The Twelve will find out why soon enough. I’d give it until morning the latest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re saying we have until morning to take care of business?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I don’t know the fine details of whatever plot you two love birds have hatched, but your timeline has been accelerated. You will need to get the job done by tomorrow morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle and Eve exchange quick glances in that moment. The expression written across Villanelle’s sharp features is not clear, but the excitement is obvious in the twinkling of Eve’s dark eyes. She isn’t aware of it, but her pace inadvertently quickens back towards The Plaza Hotel. Villanelle and Carolyn however, both notice and exchange a knowing look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you can manage that?” Carolyn is still looking directly at Villanelle when she asks the question. “It would be an awful shame if you couldn’t, going through all this trouble for nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve and I can handle it.” Villanelle replies sternly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grits her teeth and averts her gaze to look up at the night sky. Not a single star is visible courtesy of the city’s pollution and lights, and the blank, black expanse makes her feel small. She wonders if Konstantin is looking down at her, wondering what the hell is going on. But then she laughs to herself as she realizes that if he is there at all he definitely has to be looking up. She then tips her head and smiles down at the cracked pavement beneath her feet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keep watching. I promise to put on a good show. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve turns her head over her shoulder, dark curls blowing wildly in the breeze. She looks energized despite their lack of sleep and Villanelle can’t help but catch some of that excitement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>By morning this will all be done. We will be free!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have a car waiting outside the back entrance of the Vixen’s Den casino at midnight. It’ll probably take use longer than that but just in case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn nods in confirmation while checking her watch. “Anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so we are clear, Eve and I are going to capture a high ranking member of The Twelve, deliver them to you, and then get our reward. We need new passports, paperwork, and an official death certificate for Eve. We need to be assured that there will be no threads of us left for them to trace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said earlier, the quality of your reward will depend on the quality of your work, but yes. Should everything go off without a hitch and the information proves extraordinary, you will get your wish. However, I should let you know that I am considering expanding my department.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn doesn’t elaborate and Villanelle isn’t sure if she wants her to or not. Eve’s interest is certainly peaked, as she is currently raising an eyebrow and looking back and forth between Carolyn and her partner, but Villanelle’s mind is made-up. The Twelve, the government, it doesn’t matter. They both have controlling, bloodstained hands all the way up to the top and she refused to be a cog in their machine anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am considering an early retirement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To do what, go bird watching? You have a very specific skill set Villanelle, but you aren’t good at much else. Like I’ve said to you before, it would be a shame to let that talent go to waste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anger ripples from Villanelle’s gut out to her fingertips. She curls her hands into tight fists to prevent them from doing anything she might regret. “Maybe, but at least it’ll be on my own terms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she won’t be bird watching alone.” Eve’s presence beside her is comforting. Somehow, the shorter woman has puffed herself up to look larger, protective even, and Villanelle can’t help but smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Midnight then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give or take.” Eve confirms with a nod. She loops her arm through Villanelle’s and smiles at Carolyn. “See you on the other side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two lovers turn away from the older woman and continue straight, while Carolyn takes the next left and quickly disappears down the busy London street. Arm in arm, Villanelle and Eve make their way back towards their hotel. Villanelle’s brain feels too full for her skull as images from the night bounce around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t going to actually go birdwatching, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The disgust in Eve’s voice makes Villanelle’s smile widen as she laughs genuinely. “No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god.” Eve says with a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If this goes well and Carolyn keeps her word, we won’t have to worry about The Twelve following us anymore so we can do whatever we want.” The pleasant hum of city life fills her ears as Villanelle thinks of all the possibilities. “But Eve, this is our last chance to back out. They don’t have a tracking device on us anymore so it’ll be much harder for them to find us quickly. If we run now we will have a decent head start. Are you positive this is what you want? Your family and Nico will think that you are dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve comes to a dead halt in the middle of the sidewalk. Strangers grumble at her, the bolder one’s curse, but Villanelle quickly curses back and pulls them off to the side and out of the way. Eve’s cheeks have gone slightly pale and her eyes are wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I a horrible person?” Eve begins with a shaky voice. “Am I a horrible person for not even thinking about them once? My mom and my aunt… it’s not like we’re close but they’ll think I’m dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Eve Posaltri will be dead. So, are you sure this is what you want?” Villanelle tries to keep the anxiety from her voice but it clearly doesn’t work. “But no Eve, you are not a horrible person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of the shock washes from Eve’s face and she wraps her arms around Villanelle’s neck, gently swirling honey blonde locks between her fingers. Her body is warm against Villanelle, making the younger woman shiver and lean into the embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s voice is firm this time as she speaks. “I’m sure. They will never stop chasing us until we’re dead, and even if we get halfway around the world I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to relax unless this is finished. My family is safer thinking I’m dead, and Nico and I were filing for divorce anyway. I love you Villanelle, and this is the life I’ve chosen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle holds Eve close, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. It was never a choice, not for her, not really. Eve has always been this magnet, an unstoppable force pulling her in that she has no control over. Eve is the flame and Villanelle is the moth. A beautiful, unique moth with vibrant, sparkling, somewhat damaged wings, but a moth nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their kiss is soft and sweet at first, but quickly builds until Villanelle’s body feels like it’s humming. She presses even closer to Eve, wishing that she could crawl under her lover’s skin because she just can’t seem to get close enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on. Let’s finish this.” Villanelle whispers into the kiss before pulling away. Her hazel eyes are shining and her cheeks are flushed rosey red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can talk after.” Villanelle raises an eyebrow in question. “About Konstantin. I know how much he meant to you. I’m sorry it had to end like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle stiffens slightly before letting herself relax against Eve again. “It’s okay.” She says confidently, even though it is not. But it will be with time and that's what matters. “I already feel better.” That part is true. Something about kissing Eve quiets the storms in her soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle starts to lead them back down the busy streets. She can see the lights of their hotel getting closer and the large building of Helene’s casino just beyond it. ”But you know what’ll make me feel much better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seeing you kick Helene’s ass while wearing that new suit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that can be arranged.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>xxx</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure I look okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, I don’t know any other way to say it: you look like a goddess.” Villanelle drags her finger tips from the exposed golden skin of Eve’s neck down between her breasts until they reach the impossibly soft green fabric of the satin suit. She lets her eyes wander as much as she wants, taking in every inch of her partner before returning her gaze to Eve’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A faint blush rises in Eve’s cheeks. She feels like she’s under a microscope with Villanelle’s hungry, intense eyes devouring her, but it makes a boost of confidence surge in her chest and she stands a little taller. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You clean up nicely too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle preens and grins smugly. “Of course I do. I was trained to look devastating.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Devastating is a good word for it, Eve thinks as she takes in the sight of her girlfriend. Black pants hug her legs so tightly that when Villanelle walks the chiseled muscles of her calves and thighs are readily visible. The pants have a thin, gold, hexagon outline pattern climbing up the legs, which seems to shimmer with every step. Tucked into the stunning pants and secured by a simple leather black belt is a gold blouse that comes right up to Villanelle’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fabric of the shirt is tight and glittery over Villanelle’s torso, but then flares out at the sleeves which are made of lighter gold, sheer chiffon. A thin strip of fabric from the shirt wraps around her neck like a choker, accentuating the length and curve of her neck. Her hair is tied back in a casual bun, held in place by a gold pin with green gemstone accents, but a few loose strands fall beside her rosey cheeks. Eve tucks the honey locks behind Villanelle’s ear and brings her hand back to cup Villanelle’s cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The couple kisses deeply, unsure of who actually initiated it but not caring in the slightest. The kiss is bruising, lips pushing and pulling, teeth nipping and tongues searching. Eve will surely have to fix her lipstick after but it’s worth it. She pours herself into the kiss, attempting to convey every emotion she’s ever felt for Villanelle through this one act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle reciprocates in kind. She tangles her fingers through Eve’s dark hair that she insisted be left down, and holds her lover so close that they might as well be one entity. For tonight, they practically are. Because if Eve dies, Villanelle will die too. Villanelle will devote herself to destroying every single member of The Twelve and won’t stop until she succeeds or gets killed too. She has never felt so loved, understood, or accepted, and losing Eve would be even worse than losing herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve moans into the kiss before tipping her head back and taking a deep, steadying breath. “If we don’t stop now, we won’t make it before the casino closes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can be fast.” Villanelle says with a waggle of her eyebrows, but her eyes then follow the curve of Eve’s heaving chest under the green and gold suit and she becomes serious. “But you’re right, we should go. Besides, loving you is meant to be savored, not rushed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve blushes and bites her lip. “We will have the rest of our lives to savor and consume each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds so nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does.” Eve replies softly. She takes Villlanelle’s hand in hers as they exit their hotel room. “You have the weapons, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Eve. I am still a professional after all.” Villanelle glances at the gold lapels of Eve’s jacket. “And you have yours?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods in confirmation, a small smile tugging at her lips. She’s never carried a gun like this before but the cold metal against her skin feels undeniably good. “I’m ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a rather unconventional date.” Villanelle says with a chuckle. She opens the main hotel door, gesturing with a broad sweep of her arm for Eve to go through first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither of us are very conventional, are we.” Hand in hand again, the couple starts off down the block towards the towering casino. Bright red and silver lights flash over the large signs and doorway. “What regular date would you like to go on first after all this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t even have to think about it. “I want to watch a movie with you. We can eat popcorn and chocolate and we can curl up together on the couch. We can wear fuzzy pajamas but once the movie is over I’ll get them off of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve has never really been a movie in bed kind of woman, but the imagery Villanelle creates is just so tempting. She can picture it clearly already and it makes her heart flutter. “I’ll let you pick the first movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V for Vendetta! Have you seen it?” When Eve nods her head no Villanelle’s eyes go wide. “The main characters' names are Eve and V, just like us! Everyone thinks V is the bad guy in the beginning, but really he’s just fighting against a corrupt system and trying to destroy the people who hurt him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like names isn’t the only thing you have in common with the movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle thinks it over for a second before smiling. “I guess you’re right. But I hope my ending is happier than his.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens to him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you, that would spoil the fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reach the front of the que, flash their fake IDs, and walk into the casino without any extra attention. The Vixen’s Den is a high quality casino with a reputation for catering to London’s elite. Wealthy business men with more money than they know what to do with often come here just to gamble it away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air smells faintly of cigarettes, which makes Villanelle wrinkle her nose, mixed with alcohol and too much perfume. Numerus bodies pack the area around the bar, all talking and laughing loudly. Further back the slot machines start, with their bright colors and flashing lights designed to suck you in again and again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the very back is a winding staircase up to the second floor which houses the real gambling. Villanelle makes a beeline for the staircase with Eve hot on her heels. The second floor has dark wood floors and red painted walls. Red and green velvet lined tables cover most the large space, and there’s a chip counter at the back. Roarous laughter can be heard coming from the roulette stations, and the more serious card tables are on the opposite side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know how to play any of these?” Eve asks curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can play poker and blackjack but that’s about it. I don’t have the patience for a lot of this and I’m too competitive for games of chance. And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t even play bridge well.” Eve says with a chuckle. They walk the perimeter of the second floor, pretending to be looking for what table they want to join, but really they’re investigating the place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One guard by the staircase, two at the chips, and four more just standing around.” Villanelle nods with her head as she points out each one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see any weapons on them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at their shoes. See how their pants fall weird over one of their ankles? They have a gun strapped there. Probably another on the inside of their jackets too.” Eve hums as she notices, impressed by Villanelle’s observations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so how do we get up to Helene? She has to be somewhere on the top floor, right?” Eve looks at the shiny metal elevator on the far right hand wall. There’s a barcode scanner beside the button that the staff waves their badge in front of to allow access.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a few ideas, but I don’t think you’ll like either one.” Eve grimaces while Villanelle grins. “We could make a scene, get caught cheating or something, and let the guards catch us. They would bring us somewhere to ruff us up and then we turn the tables on them. We could flirt with a guard or staff member and try to steal their ID badge to get access to the elevator, but then we risk someone seeing us actually get on the elevator. Or we could walk right up to a guard and tell them we’re here to see Helene. We would lose the element of surprise but it's the most direct route.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, you’re right, I don’t like any of those choices.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, wouldn’t it be fun to get caught cheating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t there some secret code or something you could say to a guard to let them know you’re with The Twelve? It would get them to trust you so they don’t sound the alarm or something, and then you could ask for Helene?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle pouts, having had her heart set on a very dramatic entrance. “There was this one thing you could say to get help or an extraction in a pinch, but usually it was over the phone. I don’t know if it’ll work in person or if any of these guys are even in on it. Maybe they’re just run of the mill thugs and not global crime syndicate thugs?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it won’t hurt to try, right? If that doesn’t work maybe we can go with the flirting and discrete stealing thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Villanelle crosses her arms and playfully rolls her eyes. “You are the Kill Commander after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve opens her mouth as if to protest but then smiles. A dark glint of amusement flickers across her eyes. “Damn right. Let’s try the chips booth first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve walks with a kind of confidence that Villanelle has never seen in her before. There’s a swagger to her step, a certain flair that oozes sexuality. Villanelle’s mouth goes dry as she watches her girlfriend saunter over to the booth and rest her elbows on top of the red velvet. Eve flips her hair back over the shoulder, making Villanelle gulp audibly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a full minute before she snaps to her senses and moves over to the counter as well. She drapes her arm around Eve’s waist and leans against the wooden frame of the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tallulah… Tallulah Shark.” Eve stammers out and Villanelle looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “It’s nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rather tall man with a thin, wiry frame stands behind the booth with a crooked smile. His uniform has crisp, clean lines, just like the glasses hanging on to the bridge of his nose. “Nice to meet you as well Ms. Shark. Come to cash out or in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Mrs. actually.” Villanelle interjects. Eve is surprised to hear her partner's authentic Russian accent. She had expected another character like the flirty Scottish woman. “I am the other Mrs. and I’m afraid we aren’t here for either. My name is Cher Horowitz and I failed my driving test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve has to bite back a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of that sentence. Who in The Twelve could have possibly thought that that was the best escape trigger? How many people had to approve those words and how many operatives had to actually use it in the field? In fact, this whole situation had suddenly become quite ridiculous and Eve isn’t sure why she didn’t foresee this sooner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me? I’m not sure I caught that right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nevermind her.” Eve says as she lets her held in laughter bubble out. “She’s had a lot to drink tonight. I’m sorry for bothering you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle sighs and turns around to face the rest of the casino. She tosses her arms up and says in a tone that isn’t exactly yelling but very close. “My name is Cher Horowitz and I failed my driving test. Anyone know how to help me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This draws the attention of the two closest guards and one of the four who had been patrolling the room. Eve tenses as all three begin to make their way over to them. Her hand instinctively reaches to touch the lapels of her suit jacket but a gentle tap from Villanelle’s foot against her own tells her to wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guards are only about 10 feet away now and Eve’s heart is pounding in her chest. Suddenly, a tall brunette woman, no older than Villanelle, stands up at a nearby table. She’s wearing a tailored black suit that fits her like a glove, and her tall heels have an authoritative click as she stalks over to them. Her expression is serious but otherwise unreadable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you have failed your driving test, why haven’t you gone through the proper channels to retake it?” Her accent is surprisingly German but Villanelle doesn’t miss a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because certain channels are not worth my time. I need channel number four.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a flick of her wrist and nod of her head, the guards stop their approach and resume their previous posts. Eve watches the exchange in silent amazement at the display of power. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come with me. I’ll take you to the number you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another word, the German operative turns on her heels and stalks over to the shining elevator. Villanelle sends a mischievous glance over her shoulder as she and Eve follow. “Not a bad plan, Kill Commander.” Villanelle whispers so quietly Eve isn’t even sure if she heard her right.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman produces a small badge from her clutch and waves it under the scanner. The door buzzes to life and slowly opens. Eve is the last to step inside but she moves to the back of the elevator, leaving Villanelle and the presumably other assassin standing next to each other. The woman selects the top floor, number 5, and places her hands in her pockets casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I assume that you have failed your driving test as well?” The German woman turns so that she can address Eve while still keeping an eye on Villanelle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elevator door finally closes behind them and Eve can feel the adrenaline beginning to course through her veins like a drug. It crashes through her system, already building to a dizzying high. Her chest becomes tight with anticipation and she can’t stop a smirk from covering her red painted lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here to burn this place to the ground.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Game on.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't thank you guys enough for the continued support with this labor of love. Especially to the group of you who comment on every chapter! I can't express enough how much that means to me. You all seriously bring so much joy to my life! <br/>With that said, please don't hate me now that I tell you that chapter 18 won't be up for a week and a half. My wife and I are going on a well deserved 3 day weekend trip so I won't have enough time to write until we get back. I know I left on quite the cliff hanger, but I promise that it will be up asap!<br/>Oh, and I got all As on my exams last week so thank you to everyone who sent good vibes my way! I'm in a medical program with the goal of getting my doctorate in occupational therapy so it's intense.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Masterpiece Gone Wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay, but I sincerely hope you guys think this was worth the wait! This is by far the longest chapter and it took me a really long time to figure out exactly how I wanted to pace it. Also, editing is a bitch so I'm sorry in advance for any mistakes. I promise I'll go back over it before ch. 19 to fix any errors.<br/>WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE (blood, murder, gore, the works...) so if that will trigger you in any way please skip this chapter!!!! I can not stress that enough guys.<br/>ALSO, PAY ATTENTION TO THE TAGS! Just trust me you guys, I love our murder wives and it'll all be okay.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>Bright red blood is splattered across the inside of the shiny metal elevator doors like a Jackson Pollock painting. Splashes and streaks of the unusual medium start at about eye level and then spiral downward, forming a pattern all the way to the tile floor.</span> <span>Eve has never understood this kind of art before, until now.</span></p><p>
  <span>Nico had taken her to many museums and galleries in an attempt to get her to see the beauty of oil paint on canvas. Eve dutifully went along and stared at the work, pretending to appreciate it while really just feeling bored and exhausted. She could never make any sense of it or understand how anyone derived meaning from randomly splattered colors. They always reminded her of things a child would paint if given free reign in a white room, or of the ink blot tests that were supposed to determine your inner demons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Eve stands with her chest heaving and heart racing as she takes in the beauty of the art that she and Villanelle have created. Perhaps it is just a physical representation of her inner demons, but Eve thinks this is a masterpiece none the less. It stands unparalleled to her previous work, and she plans on producing a whole series today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The German woman, who’s name Eve never even bothered to learn, lays in a pile on the floor. Her head is resting against the elevator door and her dark hair is sticky with blood. Her eyes are as empty and as vast as the sky was on the night that the couple shared tucked away in the Welsh woods together. Her mouth is hanging open, red lips stained even brighter by a cascade of blood. Sticking out of her long, slender neck is the heel of her own shoe. A masterpiece indeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve catches her reflection in the parts of the elevator that are not stained red. Her dark hair is even crazier than usual, blown around her face due to the struggle, and her cheeks are flushed from exertion. Despite the chaos, Eve thinks that she has never looked more awake, never looked more beautiful. She catches Villanelle’s hazel eyes on her as well, clearly admiring the view, and smirks in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve crouches down and retrieves the badge from her victim’s purse. She gently reaches out with a single finger and strokes the length of the black leather heel until it reaches pale skin that is still warm to the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you have a thing for necks.” Villanelle says with an amused chuckle. Her voice is husky though, almost raspy, hinting to Eve that she is either nervous, turned on, or more likely both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve thinks back to her first real kill, she’s not counting Raymond, and remembers the delightful way that Dasha’s screaming had stopped abruptly when they rammed a pair of pliers through her windpipe. It sends a shiver down her spine, making her squirm, though not in a bad way, before standing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I guess I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is physically stronger and slightly taller than Eve, yet she still feels small somehow under the other woman’s intense gaze. Eve seems to swallow her up with her chocolate eyes and red lipped smile, leaving Villanelle feeling exposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a thing for you too.” Eve’s voice is low and her movements are slow as she reaches up and wraps a blood stained palm around Villanelle’s neck. She hardly applies any pressure at all, yet Villanelle is left breathless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve uses the hand clasped around Villanelle’s throat to bring her lover in for a searing kiss. She tastes the copper in the air on Villanelle’s tongue and moans deeply. Villanelle’s hands find purchase on the soft satin of Eve’s suit and she holds on for dear life. She feels as if she is toeing the line between a dream and reality, and Eve is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you so much, Villanelle.” Eve bites gently at Villanelle’s lower lip and gives her neck a firm squeeze before releasing the blonde. A faint red hand print is left across Villanelle’s pale skin, and Eve thinks that that looks like art too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle wants nothing more than to be back at the mercy of her lover, preferably in a more private venue, but just as she’s about to surge forward for another kiss, the elevator rings loudly. Back to work. They are on the clock after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the doors open, the German operative’s head plops onto the floor with a squishy thud. Her saturated hair fans out around her face and the heel stays firmly in place at the base of her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After peeking her head out to make sure no one is standing in the hallway, Villanelle grins and bows slightly. “After you my-lady.” She sweeps her arm over the dead body, gesturing for Eve to step out first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve carefully walks around the corpse and blood splatter, laughing lightly, then reaches back and takes Villanelle’s hand as she steps out as well. The elevator doors move to close behind them, but the heavy metal connects with the leather heel and opens again. Eve can’t help but watch for a second as the door opens and attempts to close over and over again, bashing into the heel each time. With each contact, a little more blood oozes from the wound on the German’s neck in an enchanting display.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on Eve, I hear footsteps coming this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve snaps out of the momentary trance she had slipped into, and smiles up at her lover. “I guess work never stops, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s an eerie echo to Villanelle’s conversation with Rhain at the bus stop, and the blonde hates the way her spine tingles because of it. The little hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she snaps to attention. No one gets out of this field unless they're dead; there’s no such thing as retirement. At least that’s what Rhain had said, and Konstantin’s corpse back at the Neon Nights Motel seemed to confirm it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle grits her teeth and drops Eve’s hand. She brushes off the front of her blouse as if to signify that she means business, and retrieves the gun hidden in her waist band. She’s determined to make a new future for herself and for her lover. She will not be at the mercy of The Twelve, or anyone else for that matter, ever again. Villanelle will break this cycle, she will get out, even if that means killing a few more times. Anything is worth it for a future with Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready?” Villanelle says for her benefit as much as Eve’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s make some art.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t have time to dissect that statement even though she wants to. She raises her eyebrows in surprise at Eve’s choice of words but as she opens her mouth to ask for an elaboration three men round the corner. They are walking close together murmuring to each other with their hands in their pockets, and it takes them a second to realize they are not alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, how did you two get up here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the casino is the first three floors only.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s well trained eyes quickly locate the poorly concealed bumps of weapons against their hips as she takes stock of the situation. The tall one to the left walks with a slight limp. He’s big, but if a well placed blow to that leg should do the trick. Once she has his gun too, it’ll be game over for the other two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you believe that we got lost looking for the lou?” Fake sweetness and innocence drips from Villanelle’s words and she shrugs her shoulders dramatically. Her hands go up and out to the side along with the shrug, making her own gun clearly visible in her right hand. The eyes of all three men go wide as they look from the gun to Villanelle’s face and then to the elevator door still opening and closing on the body of their dead coworker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shi-” Before he can even finish the curse, Villanelle blows a hole through his skull. The gun smokes in her hand from the perfect shot. Eve is the only one who can see the ever so slight tremble in Villanelle’s fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time his body lands with a slam, the other two guards have their guns drawn. Villanelle zig-zags between them, never giving them a clear shot, but they fire a few times each regardless. The former assassin reaches the man on the left within seconds. She pounds her foot against his ankle, making him crumble to the floor just like she suspected he would. However, he reaches up with a well placed flail as he falls and manages to grab a hold of Villanelle’s blouse on the way down, yanking her to the floor with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle lets out a grunt of annoyance as his rough fingers come in contact with her skin. She squeezes them as hard as she can to make him let go of her, but given their current position on the floor the angle is all wrong. She manages to lash out with her feet, catching the still standing man off guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all the window Eve needs to make her move. She keeps her own gun tucked away behind the lapels of her suit, deciding to save it for a special occasion, and dashes forward to take the gun of the man who is now locked in a wrestling match with Villanelle. It’s heavier than the one Villanelle trained her with, but the metal feels cold and electrifying against her palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve pulls the trigger quickly and without remorse. Unfortunately, it’s without proper aim too. The bullet zooms past the standing guard, going wide of his head by at least a foot, and creating a gaping hole in the adjacent drywall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guard now has his sights firmly set on Eve, but he regards her the same way a nanny would regard a bratty child. He doesn’t take Eve seriously, and that’s the start of his downfall. He lunges for the brunette almost lazily, attempting to steal the gun from her, but she drops it of her own accord before he can get to her and kicks it far across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve spins, a more graceful maneuver than any she’s ever accomplished before, slides the switchblade out from her sleeve, and extends the blade. With one fluid motion she slits the exposed throat of the guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not like it is in the movies, which both fascinates and confuses Eve. She expected blood to spray in every direction from his severed trachea, but instead the blood flows down like a river. A perfect waterfall of red. As she watches the flow, Eve flashes back to Villanelle performing the same maneuver to Adam Peel. She had forgotten all about it until now, probably buried underneath the other 1 million traumatizing events of that day. His blood had moved like a river too. Maybe that was the start of her secret neck obsession?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t have time to ponder that revelation any longer as a screech from her left draws her attention. The last remaining guard has somehow managed to get the upper hand and is straddling Villanelle. His fist connects with the still healing wound on Villanelle’s bicep for the second time consecutively, making her cry out in pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Acting more like a concerned girlfriend than anything else, Eve growls and shoves the man with all of her strength. "Hey, get off of her!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite using her full weight, the man only sways slightly. Villanelle is able to leverage the momentum though and uses all her working muscles to roll them onto their sides. Once he’s prone, Villanelle drives her knee into his groin, making him instinctively grab his now throbbing crotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now free, Villanelle quickly scrambles to her feet. She retrieves her own gun from where it fell only a few feet away, and levels it with his head. Once the guard feels the district cylinder of the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple, his hands fall to the floor and he goes still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to be able to keep my very nice clothes clean for once during a job, but I guess that is impossible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle grits her teeth and tips her head to indicate the growing blood stain over her left sleeve. The wound has reopened, causing fresh blood to gush through the stitches. The initial pain is now dulled by the rush of adrenaline coursing through her system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I would like you to tell me where Helene is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a right at the end of the hallway and she’s the last suite on the left. Just please don’t kill me! This was supposed to be some easy security gig; I don’t know what’s going on here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bulllshit. How many guards?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A total of eight more throughout the casino, though they’re probably on their way over here to kill you as we speak. Oh, and there’s one woman like you inside with Helene. I told you everything I know! Please don’t kill me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle raises her eyebrow and frowns. “A woman like me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nods quickly, eyes darting around the hallway frantically. “Yeah, a professional killer I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft, strangled chuckle leaves Villanelles throat. “There is no one like me except for Eve. I am the Demon With No Face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brown eyes grow wide with fear then slam shut against what he knows will happen next. Villanelle closes her eyes too as her thumb and pointer finger squeeze the trigger. It sounds wet and crunchy as the bullet travels through flesh, bone, organs, and back out again to become lodged in the tile floor. Villanelle has heard this sound countless times before, but this is decisively less pleasing. She has never liked when they beg for their lives. Mostly it is just annoying, but today it makes her stomach churn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Demon With No Face should feel nothing. She used to be an abyss, a black hole that sucked up everything around it without a second thought. She remembers a time Konstantin likened her to the hungry caterpillar, eating holes through people and spitting them back out. He claimed to have meant it affectionately, but his disapproving smile spoke the truth. The memory brings another strangled chuckle to her lips and Villanelle slowly opens her eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fluorescents of the building are suddenly far too bright and there is more red in her field of vision than any other color. Villanelle has never been a big red fan, she’s more of a pink kind of girl. Then shimmering green and gold catches her eye and Villanelle turns to focus on the only thing that really matters anymore- Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is looking at her with concern and another emotion that Villanelle has no name for, perhaps tenderness mixed with admiration? Gently, Eve reaches out and caresses her cheek. The touch sends Villanelle back to Eve’s kitchen in London all those months ago, with champagne and fake arsenic pills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think about you all the time.” Her voice sounds far away from her body, as if floating above the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re all I think about too, Oksana.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her dead name startles her, forcibly returning her mind to the moment. Eve must sense the shift in Villanelle so she caresses her thumb across her partner’s skin to sooth her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the Demon With No Face, V. Not anymore and never to me. You’ve always been…” Eve trails off, tongue caught on the words her heart longs to say and knows to be true. “You’re my soulmate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Soulmate.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle never believed in soulmates. How could there be one person out there in the whole wide world that could complete her? Yet with Eve, complete is exactly what Villanelle feels. Complete, whole, loved, all luxuries she thought never truly existed, especially not for her, until she met Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are no words in any language that she knows expressive enough to capture her overwhelming love for this woman, so Villanelle decides to demonstrate it with a kiss instead. Her lips move firmly, frantically, fueled by passion and adrenaline. Eve returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, holding her lover close by the back of her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle flips the security camera the bird, not breaking away from Eve, in hopes that Helene is watching. Fuck her and fuck The Twelve, but at least this experience brought her to her soulmate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time to finish this, my love.” Villanelle says as she pulls back and rests her forehead against Eve’s. As if in response, the sound of numerous footsteps echoes up from the stairwell on their right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Villanelle hisses. She reluctantly moves away from Eve and rushes to the stairwell. She slams the heavy iron door closed and twists the lock into place. It won’t stop them for long, but at least it’ll give the women a little more time to get the job done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve picks up the gun that she fired before and tucks it into the waistband of her trousers. The sound of her feet pounding against the tile matches the pounding in her heart as she follows Villanelle to the end of the hallway. They take a right like the guard had said, passing a few small rooms that appear to be offices along the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they round the corner, a huge door at the end comes into view. It’s solid, black stained oak with a large golden plated number 4 hanging proudly at the top. There’s no windows into the suite, unlike the many offices and conference rooms that line the rest of this hallway. Villanelle and Eve can see empty rolling chairs, calendars, and post-it notes littering the small side rooms. Eve marvels at just how ordinary it all looks, not at all unlike the arrangement back when she was working for MI5. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who knew The Twelve had offices?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boring! Imaging working for a global crime syndicate and getting stuck on desk duty.” Villanelle replies with a mournful shake of her head. “Not that my job was much better, but at least I got to see the world instead of these ugly eggshell walls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to go see the world too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After this, I promise to take you wherever you want to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s start in Paris. I want to see the city you love so much without stabbing you this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both women laugh softly and smile at each other. Villanelle’s scar burns pleasantly at the memory and she subconsciously reaches out to stroke it through her clothes. The familiar pressure of her palm over that specific stretch of raised flesh calms some of the rolling in her gut and she walks with more gusto. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finally reach the end of the long hallway. Villanelle is grinning with nerves, excitement, and a little bit of fear if she’s being honest. “Paris is lovely this time of year.” And with that, Villanelle kicks right below the knob of the large, imposing door with all of her strength. The metal hinges groan and the door swings open, slamming into the opposite wall leaving a dent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pristine white tile floors stretch out to meet dark grey walls that are adorned with numerous black shelves. Books, trinkets, and what Eve assumes are very expensive antique weaponry, cover the shelves along the right wall. Some of the objects rattle in their places from the force of the door being slammed open, but none are so bold as to actually fall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, on the left wall, a very large painting does make its way to the floor. It’s intricate golden frame bends and glass shatters, sending sharp shards in every direction. Eve’s eyes follow the trajectory of the glass to land at the base of a large, black wooden desk, that is made out of the same material as the door. It’s legs are carved with expert craftsmanship, spiraling up to its impressive frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting behind the desk is Helene. Her jaw is set in a hard line and her thin, pink lips are turned down in a disapproving frown. Her long fingers are folded together in front of her, resting on the desk, and she taps one of them against the wood as if impatient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing directly next to her is a tall, young woman with her blonde hair cut short against her scalp. The rippling muscles of her biceps are visible beneath her plain white shirt, and the strap of a holster is clearly outlined by her hip. She widens her stance as if to appear even larger, and grins when she meets Eve’s gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind them both are the doors to a private elevator. Villanelle narrows her eyes, looking past Helene to the obvious escape route. She had to have heard the gunshots, Helene knew there was trouble even if she didn’t know exactly who was causing it, so why didn’t she take her way out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle, why do you always have to be so dramatic? I purposefully left the door unlocked for you.” Helene’s voice is that of a mother berating their child, stern and exasperated. She gestures to the broken pieces of the painting that surely cost more than Eve’s entire yearly salary. “And that was an original. Have you no manners?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess not.” Villanelle’s voice is like ice but Eve can see the fire beginning to boil inside her lover. Villanelle’s fingers twitch at her side and her back becomes straighter. She widens her stance to match the other assassin’s and clenches her jaw tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still thinking like a child, I see. And you haven’t even introduced me yet to the Bonnie to your Clyde, how rude of you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle changes her voice to sound cheerful and light, like she is the announcer of some game show. “Sooooo sorry about that!  Eve, meet Helene. She is who we are here to capture!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene frowns and glares at Villanelle but Eve can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her throat, involuntarily but genuine. Villanelle smiles from ear to ear at the sound and it encourages her to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that you’ve put a name to the face Eve, care to bash it in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve manages to get her giggles under control as she closes the office door behind her. She clicks the lock shut and then takes her place beside her lover, standing proud and tall. “With pleasure, darling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is slightly taken aback as the assassin’s smile widens, as if she has been waiting for this all night. She puts her buff arms in front of herself and cracks her knuckles, then takes a single side step to begin to move around the desk. Eve braces for battle, blood beginning to rush louder in her ears, but before the woman can take another step, Helene reaches out and puts a hand gently on her arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet, Anya. We need to give our guests the chance to behave themselves.” Anya visibly deflates and returns to Helene’s side. Eve finds herself disappointed with the delay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only behave for Eve.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I won’t bother with you, Villanelle. I was planning on offering you your old job back with the actual perks of being a Keeper this time, but I can see that you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn right, you can take that job and shove it up your arsehole.” Villanelle doesn’t believe Helene for a second. Actually, she finds it insulting to her intelligence that Helene even went with that weak lie in the first place. Villanelle has no delusions about this scenario; Helene wants her dead and that is the end of it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene’s face remains unchanged, only continuing to display disdain and annoyance while Villanelle answers. She shakes her head and then turns her gaze to Eve. A small smile creeps across her cheeks as she looks Eve up and down. The brunette squirms under the intense appraisal and grits her teeth. Helene stands, pushing her plush chair back to get an even better look at Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re the operative I’ve heard so many things about? Interesting...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Eve is very interesting but she should be of no interest to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone who can control you, the most unruly of monsters, is of interest to me.” Helene slowly stalks around to the front of her desk and leans against it, crossing her arms over her chest. Eve can see Villanelle tense as the older woman moves, making Eve’s hand instinctively reach to the handle of her switchblade. “Tell me, Eve, how do you do it? Is it the sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve feels her cheeks turn bright red from the intensity of the anger building in her chest. “I don’t control her. Villanelle isn’t some machine to be ordered around! You, Dasha, The Twelve, Konstantin, everyone, you’re all wrong about her! She’s so much more than just what you’ve painted her out to be. And for the record, not that it’s any of your business, but the sex is amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle is a beautiful monster. No more, no less. We did not ‘paint’ her that way; we found her and trained the darkness that was already there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Eve says firmly with an almost sad shake of her head. “She has so much potential and all you’ve done is waste it.” Villanelle doesn’t particularly care for being talked about like she isn’t standing right here holding a gun, but hearing Eve defend her makes her chest puff up with pride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is your potential, Eve? I’m interested in you now.” Helene moves her hands to her pockets and regards Eve once more. “I already know that you graduated top of your class with a degree in criminal psychology; trying to understand the inner workings of your own mind perhaps? You moved from job to job for a while before settling down with MI5. It wasn't the job you really wanted, but it eventually led to you getting a position under Carolyn Martens for MI6. Is that correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve nods begrudgingly, more than a little annoyed at how much Helene knows about her, and how little she knows about Helene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were tasked with tracking down Villanelle, the most dramatic yet effective assassin The Twelve has ever had.” Villanelle takes a deep bow at that, making Helene roll her eyes and Eve smile. “Which you miraculously managed to accomplish and then muck up royally. Now, here you are on the run with the very assassin you were meant to arrest, no longer working for Ms. Martens, no longer married, and with no foreseeable future except getting blown to bits by the casino guards who will soon be waiting outside that very door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were pretty spot on up until that last bit. Villanelle and I have no intention of dying today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can ensure that. Well, for you anyway.”  Helene pushes off the desk as if to come inspect Eve, but a low rumble from Villanelle warns Helene to stay back. The older French woman holds her hands up and returns to leaning against the desk, but her expression is now smug. She’s clearly pleased with herself for getting under the couple’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not here to bargain, Helene. Villanelle was telling the truth before, you’re coming with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Light, airy laughter leaves Helene’s lips as if Eve just said the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. “You sound so confident! I love that attitude! Konstantin was right, you’re a perfect fit for The Twelve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve grips the handle of her knife tightly. “Konstantin is dead so he’s probably not the most reliable source.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the revelation. “Well, you might not have come to make deals but I have an offer for you, Eve. In the few short weeks you’ve been traveling with Villanelle, you’ve managed to eliminate several of my top operatives, gather intelligence, and somehow keep yourself out of my grasp despite a tracking device. Before this you already proved to be excellent at manipulation, coercion, and research. Your instincts are impressively accurate and you have a penchant for violence that rivals even Villanelle’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene is grinning ear to ear now, her excitement barely contained. “All your life you’ve known you’re different from everyone else around you. You have a monster inside you that you were never allowed to feed before. But with us, Eve, with The Twelve, we can give you and your monster a whole buffet. We can give you the life you’ve always craved! Money, travel, excitement, adrenaline! Anything you want you can simply reach out and take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle scoffs and shifts her weight between her feet. She raises the silver gun with a visibly shaking hand. “Leave Eve alone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The adults are talking now, Villanelle. We’ll get to you in a minute.” Helene never takes her eyes off the brunette. “Come work for us, Eve. You will be protected and given whatever your heart desires. You can see the world in style, fully financed of course, and all you have to do is kill a few people we ask you to. Maybe wrangle in any rogue assets as well, since you’ve already proven yourself skilled in that area.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve does her absolute best to keep her breathing even and steady, but as she chances a glance at her lover, her chest tightens and voice cracks. “What’s the catch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s hazel eyes blow wide with disbelief and shock. Her cheeks grow pale and her bottom lip begins to tremble. All of the air leaves her lungs in one collective, strangled exhale, making her head spin and chest ache. Her eyes dart from Eve to Helene and back again, searching desperately for any sign that this has all just been one terrible nightmare and she is going to wake up soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This can’t be happening. There’s no way Eve would actually consider working for Twelve after everything they’ve done. There’s no way Eve would leave her soulmate! Right? Suddenly, Villanelle isn’t so sure anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She starts to hyperventilate, sucking air in and spitting it back out again frantically. Her vision becomes hazy around the edges and every muscle in her body tenses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve…” Villanelle whispers because it is all she can think to say. The weak muscles of her heart are still holding onto hope that she is just misinterpreting the situation. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a fraction of a second, Eve’s dark eyes meet Villanelle’s. Tears are visibly welled in the chocolate orbs but none have fallen yet. Eve turns away quickly, unable to bear the pain she sees reflected in Villanelle’s gaze. “That all sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene is positively beaming, and the assassin behind her looks impressed and amused as well. The older woman claps her hands in front of her, giving Eve a satisfied yet coy smirk. “Oh, it’s nothing really. The life you’ve always wanted can be yours for the small price of killing Villanelle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve’s jaw drops the slightest bit before she quickly snaps it shut and readjusts her expression to be one of calm, calculation, contemplation. Villanelle, on the other hand, is unable to retain any semblance of composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve! You can’t be serious!” She waves the gun between her lover and former boss with jerky, disjointed movements. “Let’s just kill this bitch and get this over with!” Instead of the usual white hot anger that Villanelle expects to take her over by now, she just feels suffocated by thick, black smoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unbeknownst to everyone, Eve is biting the inside of her cheek so hard that she draws blood. The taste of warm copper fills her mouth, coating her tongue before she swallows it down. It is taking every fiber of her being not to explode, but Eve knows she has to play her cards exactly right or everything she cares about will disappear forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She locks eyes with Helene, refusing to let any tears fall, and gives the French woman a small nod. Helene practically squeals with glee, too caught up in the moment of her perceived victory to notice the burning hatred hidden behind chocolate eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck, Eve? You said we were soulmates!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monsters don’t get to have soulmates.” Helene says with a cruel chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve then turns her back on Helene to face her lover. She lifts her right hand, places her palm over Villanelle’s on the outstretched gun, and when Villanelle doesn’t resist she lowers the weapon until it’s resting safely at their sides. Villanelle is still desperately searching for some signal that none of this is real, and her breath is still only coming in short, shallow gasps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I loved you, Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh.” Eve reaches up and caresses her partner’s pale cheek. So quietly that Villanelle isn’t even sure she hears anything at all, Eve whispers “Do you trust me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The racing of Villanelle’s heart and mind slow with that one nearly inaudible question. Her muscles continue to tremble, but she is able to take a few, steadying breaths. Almost imperceptibly, Villanelle nods yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before her brain can finish putting the pieces together, Eve is kissing her like there is no one else in the room. Eve starts slow but deep, letting her lips ravish her lover’s before slipping her tongue behind white teeth. Villanelle forgets herself and moans into the embrace. Letting the gun fall to the floor, she grips Eve’s hips so tightly that it will surely leave bruises. Eve tangles her fingers in Villanelle’s bun, making it fall down around her shoulders in messy, wavy locks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when it clicks for Villanelle. She feels Eve’s slender fingers grip her golden hairpin with emerald embellishments, and pull it free from her honey blonde hair completely. Eve keeps it in a tight grip as she continues to kiss Villanelle passionately. Once she has the courage built up to do what she knows must be done, Eve nips Villanelle’s lower lip and raises the sharp point of the hairpin high above her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything seems to switch to slow motion for Eve. She flexes her elbow, lowering the hairpin as if to drive it down into the soft flesh of Villanelle’s long neck. At the very last possible moment she adverts her aim and moves diagonally, crossing in front of Villanelle’s chest without any contact, and spinning so that she is facing Helene once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve raises the hairpin again, being carried by the momentum of her spin, and lunges forward. She doesn’t feel any fear or hesitation, only a rush of adrenaline and steely determination. She watches, still in slow motion, as Helene’s expression of joy transforms to confusion and then panic. But there is no time for Helene to react before Eve stabs the point of the hairpin directly into her left eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve drives the sharp, golden end in until squishy texture gives way to hard bone. The blood curdling scream that rips from Helene’s throat is what finally speeds time up again for Eve. Everything becomes a blur while, still gripping the pin, she yanks her arm away. There’s a soft, sickening pop as Helene’s eye travels out with the pin. Blood sprays in every direction from the gaping hole of Helene’s eye socket. The French woman continues to scream, doubled over in pain, as she clutches fruitlessly at the wound to stop the bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve takes one look at the skewered eye in her hand, and hastily throws the hairpin across the room with a shriek. It lands by the shattered painting, rolling until it hits a shard of glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The eye, Eve? The eye!” Villanelle’s voice, which is a mixture of shock, delight, and awe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve doesn’t have a chance to reply because the assassin vaults herself over the desk. She lets out a deep battle cry and launches herself right for Villanelle. Eve tries to stick out her leg and trip the younger woman, but she’s just a fraction too late. Anya closes the distance in an instant and lands a solid punch square to Villanelle’s jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Eve can try to intervene, Helene has re-centered herself with her one remaining eye focused on Eve. “You’re going to pay for this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a miracle that Eve managed to take out one of Helene’s eyes because Helene’s miscalculated depth perception is the only reason that Eve is able to avoid the onslaught of attacks coming her way. She narrowly dodges blow after blow, using all her energy on the defensive. Eve gets the distinct feeling that if she was going up against Helene at full strength, this battle would have been over already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle isn’t faring much better either. She and Anya are well matched in height but the current Twelve employee has the weight advantage. She is built like a truck and clearly knows how to throw her superior strength around. Villanelle recovers from another hit to the abdomen just in time to roll out of the way. She uses the momentum of the other woman to push her, sending Anya even further forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle takes that as an opportunity for one of her least favorite, though effective, moves. She jumps onto Anya’s back, wrapping her legs around the woman’s waist and locking her arms under a soft throat. She squeezes with all her might, making Anya begin to gasp and sputter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cue the reason why this move is not ranked anywhere near her top five favorites: Anya’s fight or flight response kicks in. Desperate to get Villanelle to release her, she slams Villanelle’s back against the wall over and over again. Villanelle leans her head forward so it doesn’t take any of the force, but she feels her ribs cracking due to the pressure instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Villanelle holds on with everything she has. Anya begins to gasp louder and louder, prompting her to reach frantically to her hip in an attempt to remove the gun holstered there. Villanelle has to unlock one of her legs to kick Anya’s hand away so that she can’t grab the gun, but unfortunately that change in position is enough to send Villanelle flying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lands in a pile of broken glass. Shards dig into her back on impact and cut deeply into her palm as she struggles to stand up. Anya is struggling too, clutching at her already bruised throat as she coughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ew!” Villanelle kicks the eye at her feet away as she collects herself. “You’re lucky I didn’t land on that!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene’s severed eye prompts Villanelle to look over to her former boss, who is still locked in combat with Eve. Villanelle can see the sweat dripping down Eve’s forehead as she swings wide with her switchblade, missing Helene’s chest and forcing her to go back on the defensive. Eve is almost backed into a corner, making Villanelle’s heart race with fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the searing pain of her ribs and back, Villanelle dashes forward. She smirks as she picks up the tiny wooden chair off to the side and then grins from ear to ear as she brings it crashing down upon Helene’s back. One of the little legs connects with the base of Helene’s skull, making the older woman collapse to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said to leave Eve alone, but you didn’t listen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene’s arms attempt to cover her head but she is too slow. Villanelle smashes the chair down again without remorse. The wood splinters, sending each leg out in a different direction and leaving Villanelle holding just the back of it. She pants from the exertion and looks down at her work with pride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only movement coming from Helene is the shaky rise and fall of her chest. She is unconscious for now but still alive, and Villanelle considers that a huge win. Blood is still trickling from her empty eye socket, joining the bright red trail dripping down her cheek, making her look like some sort of extra from a zombie movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s appraisal of her work is cut short by a deafening gunshot. The bullet connects with the piece of wooden chair still in her hand, sending the furniture flying and causing pain to radiate up Villanelle’s wrist. Thankfully, Anya’s vision is still a little blurry from her previous lack of oxygen, producing a poor shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is quick to return fire. She pulls a small handgun out from under the lapels of her satin suit, which was originally a perfect emerald green but is now mostly maroon with dried blood. Anya dives behind the safety of the large desk to take cover. The office they are in is large, but not large enough for them to miss the heavy panting of the assassin who is clearly still out of breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her obvious state of exhaustion, Anya quickly ducks her head around the corner and starts to fire again. The couple are able to lunge out of the way, and Eve wastes no time firing back. While the other two women are locked in a shoot off, Villanelle begins to make her way as quietly as possible around to the other side of the desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she’s close enough, Villanelle takes a deep breath to steady herself and then pounces. She latches onto Anya’s back once more, causing the assassin to drop her gun and fall to her knees from her previously crouched position. Rough fingers reach back and grab at Villanelle’s long hair, yanking hard enough to pull some strands out. Anya manages to struggle to her feet with Villanelle still clinging like a monkey to her back. She stumbles towards the wall to attempt to dislodge Villanelle like last time, but now Villanelle has a different approach planned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle quickly unwraps her legs from Anya’s waist, kicks off the wall, and launches herself up so that both of her powerful thighs become wrapped around Anya’s neck. The assassin screams, flailing out in desperation to no avail. Villanelle uses her momentum to swing herself around, causing Anya’s sturdy figure to move clockwise, while Villanelle’s thighs twist Anya’s neck counterclockwise. There’s a sickening crack of a spinal column, followed by the bang of two people hitting the floor, and then a third bang that Villanelle can’t quite place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind was knocked from Villanelle’s lungs on impact but pure adrenaline spurs her to her feet. Her hazel eyes promptly survey the room, searching for the source of the third noise. When she meets Eve’s terrified, crying eyes, Villanelle’s heart stops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bright red blood blooms across the green satin fabric covering Eve’s abdomen. Her shaking hands slowly move to cover the wound but within seconds the golden hue of Eve’s skin isn’t visible beneath all of the red. Eve’s knees buckle, dragging her to the ground. Villanelle tries to catch her but it’s too late. She’s too late!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle feels everything all at once and then nothing at all. A tidal wave of disbelief, ager, hatred, fear, and anguish wash over her from head to toe. She sees an image of her future shatter to pieces and burn to ash at her feet. Searing pain fills every single one of her cells until she finally feels a numbing darkness take hold of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The physical pain from all of her assorted injuries vanishes, even as she moves faster than she ever has before. Helene has barely propped herself up against the grey wall. Blood still drips from her eye socket and is splattered across her hand that is holding an outstretched gun. She fires a second shot that rips through Villanelle’s left forearm, but the younger woman doesn’t even register it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle reaches her within seconds. Her muscles move of their own accord and her mind is painfully blank as she lands punch after punch. The gun clatters to the floor, swiftly followed by Helene’s limp body. Villanelle follows, continuing to lash out until she can’t recognize the face of the woman who took Eve from her. Her fist is raised to deliver another merciless blow when a sound other than static pierces through the darkness covering her being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle…” Eve's voice is a low whimper, strained and full of deep sadness. The blonde freezes, unsure if it is just her imagination playing a cruel trick on her until she hears it again. “Villanelle, help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle scrambles across the room, not even bothering to stand up all the way. She reaches her lover in a flurry of desperation. “Eve!” Carefully, Villanelle lifts her lover’s head so that it can rest in her lap. She smooths Eve’s tangled hair away from her forehead before pressing her palm firmly against Eve’s abdomen to try and stop the bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, V.” Eve’s voice is weak, but Villanelle is beyond thankful that she even still has a voice at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. Now stop talking; save your strength.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle fumbles through Eve’s pockets with her free hand to retrieve Eve’s cellphone. The pain from her own gunshot wound finally appears on Villanelle's radar, but she grits her teeth to bite back a scream and dials the only person she can think of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn! Is there a car outside already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, bu-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. We need two ambulances here right away! Back entrance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oka-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle hangs up the phone before Carolyn can really get a word in and returns all her attention to Eve who is struggling to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V, I… I need you to know that I never really considered Helene’s offer. You have to believe me. I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Eve. I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, but you can tell me that again in the morning, okay?” Eve doesn’t respond. She just smiles sadly as hot, wet tears roll down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle curses in every language she knows. She curses Helene, The Twelve, and every god she’s ever heard of just for good measure. She’s not sure how the universe could be so cruel as to give her something this beautiful and then threaten to take it away. But Eve isn’t gone yet and Villanelle will be damned if she lets the universe take her without a fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Summoning her little remaining strength, Villanelle makes sure Eve’s own palm is applying pressure to her injury before rising to her feet. She moves as quickly as possible to Helene’s barely breathing body, grips the older woman’s ankle with her one good arm, and drags her dead weight over to the private elevator. Unceremoniously, she pushes the button and heaves Helene inside, leaving her leg sticking out to stop the door from closing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle then returns to her lover, and as carefully as possible, she lifts her into her arms bridal style. Eve’s eyes are fluttering open and closed as she drifts in and out of consciousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please hang on, Eve. Please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle kicks Helene’s legs into the elevator and manages to use her elbow to push the button for the first floor. She hopes this will lead them to the back entrance where she saw Konstantin leave from earlier in the evening, but anywhere closer to an exit is good enough for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears stream down Villanelle’s cheeks, clearing a path between the blood splatter and sweat. Her eyes burn and her entire body aches. The only thing keeping Villanelle on her feet is the pure, unconditional love she has for the woman growing cold in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle looks down at her soulmate through blurry eyes. Her curses turn to prayers as she screams mentally for anyone out there to hear her. She knows she doesn’t deserve their help, the gods probably turned their back on her long ago, but Villanelle keeps praying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to hold on, Eve, please. Stay with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I love you, V.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said you need to tell me that in the morning! When we wake up next to each other in bed, when the sun hits your skin just right to make you glow; tell me you love me then.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know how this looks, but please trust me!! Pay attention to the tags and it'll all be okay. I would never play you guys like that. Thank you so incredibly much for sticking with me this far! I can't believe how far this story has come and that there are only 2 chapters left. I couldn't have done this without your love and support. 19 will be up in about 1 week so you don't have to wait too long for some answers.<br/>On a personal note, vacation was fun and I'm crushing school, but for some reason my mental health is absolute shit lately. That being said, I would really appreciate any and all comments! I really can't describe what that interaction does for my serotonin levels but wow do I need it. You are all amazing and I hope you have a great week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow, we're here! This is the last real chapter before the epilogue and I can't believe we've made it this far. I couldn't have done it without the tremendous support from my readers, so a huge thank you to every single person who has left kudos, comments, and bookmarks. I sincerely hope this lives up to your expectations!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every second that ticks by in Helene’s private elevator feels like an eternity to Villanelle. She counts the floors as they descend far too slowly and feels each individual muscle of her arms unraveling with the passing of time. Still, she holds on to Eve, refusing to let her fingers budge even a millimeter for fear that if she does, Eve will slip away completely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pain radiates through her entire left side, back, and shoulders, but it is nothing compared to the terrible ache burning in her chest. In an attempt to ease that ache, Villanelle talks to Eve. She whispers sweet nothings, promises of mornings she’s not sure if they will ever get to share and dreams of the future they might have had together. The talking also serves to help keep Villanelle awake, as the blood loss is beginning to make her head spin and vision fuzzy. But by the time the elevator finally reaches the bottom floor there are no words left, only sobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They are the kind of cries that rips a person open from the inside out, tapping into a well so deep that you’re not sure that it’ll ever run dry. Villanelle knows that her well travels right to her very core. She feels as if it is made of a dark, murky substance that is more like sludge than water. Villanelle thinks she might choke on it, and that that wouldn’t be an unwelcome result in her opinion at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lasted as long as she could, but blood loss and fatigue finally take total control, making everything that happens next a blur for Villanelle. Red and blue flashing lights, loud sirens, and louder screams consume her senses until she feels like there is nothing of her left at all except for agony. That all encompassing pain is the only thing signifying to her that she is still, in fact, alive. So Villanelle does the only thing she can, she clings to the pain, leans into it even, just like she continues to cling to Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strong arms and rough hands try to pull Eve away from her, but Villanelle drapes herself across Eve’s impossibly still body, sobbing and praying all while thrashing wildly in an attempt to shield Eve from whatever monsters are refusing to leave them alone. The forms of these monsters she doesn’t know, and she wonders why they haven’t killed her yet. She almost wishes they would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle can’t see anything other than her lover’s closed eyelids and pale cheeks. It’s like her entire world has shrunk to be only the size of Eve’s face. Everything else just doesn’t exist for her anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not until a familiar, stern voice slams itself into the back of her skull that Villanelle’s world expands again. The second it does, and all the harsh lights mixed with the inky blackness of a night sky come into view, Villanelle wishes with all her heart that it was her eyes closed instead of Eve’s. But then the voice speaks again and Villanelle thinks she hears it from underwater, all distant and distorted by the sludge of her tears. With each word Villanelle feels herself being forcibly pulled up from the depths of the ocean by this disgusting trick of the mind called hope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to let them do their job, Villanelle. You have to let them try to save her. Eve is strong. She can survive this, after all she survived you, but you have to let go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s gentle hands that reach out this time, tugging softly at the back of Villanelle’s blood stained blouse. Some of the voices and faces of who she perceived to be monsters clears as the fog she’s in lifts ever so slightly. “Carolyn? It’s not too late?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right. Come on then, let them help Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve. Villanelle looks down at the face of her lover, who is somehow now lying on a stretcher. Even in such stillness Villanelle knows that Eve is the most beautiful person on the planet. With trembling hands, Villanelle cups Eve’s cheeks and ever so gently brushes her lips over each of Eve’s closed eyelids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it had to be one of us, it should have been me.” Villanelle trails her fingers through tangled, dark locks. “Please, stay with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Villanelle finally steps away on shaking legs and the paramedics jump into action. They assess Eve’s vitals and rush to get her into the back of the ambulance. Unable to bear the thought of being separated, Villanelle moves to get in the back of the bus as well, but before she can, her head starts to spin violently. Her vision becomes a mess of blurred reds, blues, and blacks once more and she feels bile rise to her throat. The last thing she sees before her head hits the concrete is Carolyn’s face. Not exactly the last thing she wanted to see, but if this means she can trade places with Eve, then it’ll have to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>xxx</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything is too bright and too dull all at the same time. Objects shift in and out of focus without her eyes’ consent, and her stomach rolls due to the motion of it. Her head pounds like a drum, making it impossible to pick out any particular sound, and even if she could she’s not sure she would be able to process any of it. Things that she assumes must be words sound like the auditory equivalent of a jigsaw puzzle, except all of the pieces come from different sets so nothing matches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing at all matches for Villanelle. Not the pain in her arms, the wet, sticky feeling on her back, or the overwhelming sensation that she is still sinking, sinking, sinking, like a heavy stone to the bottom of a black lake. It’s only when she is able to remember Eve that Villanelle recalls why she is drowning in the first palace. Eve is the only thing that gives her the strength and desire to swim at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The memories come in flashes, short bursts of brilliance that make her feel safe and terrified all at the same time. At first they are hazy shadows in the distance, outlines only, but eventually Villanelle’s visions take on shape and color until they form beautiful mosaics. She remembers thick curly hair, curious eyes, and soft pink lips. She sees a tiny yellow room filled with nautical themed objects, a shed on a Scottish golf course, and the Welsh countryside under a sky full of stars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually the mosaic shifts, rearranging itself into a much darker picture. The memory hits Villanelle like a speeding train. Green satin stained red, the sound of gunshots and bones breaking, the feeling of life and love slipping from between her fingertips. Eve!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle bolts upright, eyes suddenly focused and lungs clear of water “Eve!” Her voice comes out in a hoarse, desperate whisper meant to be a scream. “Where is Eve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle? It’s okay, Eve is still in surgery. Try to calm down, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frantically, Villanelle tries to get up but is stopped by tight pressure. She looks down in shock and finds herself strapped to a hospital bed. Laying over white sheets are thick, padded leather straps buckling her right wrist and both feet to the railing. Her left arm is in some sort of metal contraption that sticks out from the bruised skin of her upper arm, connecting with more metal over her elbow. She tries, but Villanelle can’t move her limbs at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to be sick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle lolls her head to the side as the room seems to spin. A waste bin is quickly shoved under her chin, just in time too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she is empty, the world slowly rearranges itself for Villanelle. Her anesthesia and trauma induced dreams state slips away to be replaced by the even harsher glare of reality. It’s like putting on glasses and being surprised by all the fine details you’ve been missing. Villanelle takes several deep breaths to steady herself as she adjusts to consciousness before addressing the woman who just held her hair back while she vomited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you from somewhere. You’re not a nurse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me or not.” The young, black woman says with a little chuckle and a cheeky smile. “You’ve probably shot at a lot of people so I didn’t think you’d recognize me. I’m not special or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shot at? Villanelle doesn’t shoot at people who live to tell the tale, well except for two very special people. Then it clicks and Villanelle can’t help but smile back. “You were in the car with Eve!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bingo! I begged her to keep driving but that asshole just had to see you up close. She couldn’t keep it in her pants and now look where we are!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle is about to snap at the woman for insulting her lover, but then she sees the genuine fondness in chocolate eyes so she laughs a little instead. The noise sounds foreign and rusty, making her wonder just how long it’s been since she last used it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Elena by the way. I work for Carolyn Martens. I was part of the original team with Eve, Bill, and Kenny that found you, but after everything in Russia and Paris Carolyn had me assigned to a new team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Eve said you quit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what Carolyn made me tell them. It broke my heart but crown and country, right? She put me on a team who looks at The Twelve as a whole. Big picture stuff. Eve was too focused on you and only you to see anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The comment makes Villanelle’s heart ache and swell in equal measure. “How is Eve? Please tell me that she’s alright!” Her voice sounds more desperate than intended. “And why am I in these restraints, and what’s this weird metal thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides the obvious reason of you being a homicidal psychopath who has killed agents in a hospital before…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle puts on what she thinks is an innocent smile and grins, but she ends up  looking more like the wolf than little red riding hood. “Oops?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena glares disapprovingly. “Oops is right. But you also keep trying to rip your IV out and the nurses and doctors are all annoyed with you over it, among other things. You only have so many usable veins and apparently you’re a difficult stick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been told I’m difficult in every aspect of my life, but I don’t remember that.” Villanelle says with a pout. Her heart begins to race, making the little monitor beep at an alarming pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember the casino.” Villanelle replies through gritted teeth. A wave of anger washes over her from head to toe, filling her with a fresh desire to rip The Twelve to pieces. “Things were going well but then Helene shot Eve, I beat the shit out of her for it and then managed to get us all down to the first floor. Carolyn was waiting with help but everything is foggy after that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all?” Villanelle looks up with confusion and concern, making Elena sigh softly. “Villanelle, that was five days ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Villanelle croaks out in disbelief. Had she really been dream drowning for five whole days?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. You passed out at the scene from blood loss and I guess just like maximum physical exertion? You pushed yourself really hard and were in bad shape. You needed a blood transfusion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle cringes at the thought of someone else’s blood running through her veins. It makes her skin crawl and itch. She guesses she has always been somewhat of a Frankenstein's monster, but this really seems like a bit much, especially with ugly metal now sticking out of her arm too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did surgery on your arm once you were stable enough to fix your broken elbow and remove the bullet. I guess some of the bone was shattered so they put in a plate and then this contraption to help it heal. You’ve been in and out of consciousness since, waking up long enough to be a dick, eat some jello, and fall back out of it. The anesthesia really took a toll on you but this is the most alert you’ve been, as I understand. I can go get the doctor to tell you the details if you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena gestures towards the door but Villanelle quickly reaches out to grab her, forgetting momentarily about the restraints before she is forced back to the bed. “No! Please Elena, you have to tell me what’s going on with Eve first. She’s the only thing that matters to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena looks frightened for an instant but then softens before her expression changes to sadness. Her eyes wander to the empty bed beside Villanelle, the only other one in this small and otherwise empty hospital room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t look good to be honest. When she first got here they rushed her into surgery right away. She coded on the table but they were able to bring her back and finish the surgery. The bullet punctured her intestines and spleen. It took them a long time to repair everything and she needed a blood transfusion too but she seemed to do well enough. She was like you, in and out of it until this morning when she wouldn’t wake up at all. Her bloodwork was really bad. I’m not a doctor, but the way they explained it was that some more of her intestines died and got necrotic? So they went back in about three hours ago to try and fix it. She’s septic and only has a 50/50 chance of pulling through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena sniffles as she finishes, and wipes her eyes with a tissue. Tears sting at Villanelle’s hazel eyes too. She desperately wants to wipe them away but the damn restraints are preventing her from moving. Suddenly everything feels like too much, like the entire world is pressing down on her shoulders, crushing her beneath its massive weight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle begins to gasp for air and strain violently against her restraints. “Take them off! Get them off me right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena doesn’t know what to do. There’s no way in hell she’s going to take off the restraints after what happened to Bill, but she finds her heart aching for the former assassin nonetheless. Nurses rush into the room, called by the ringing of Villanelle’s vital monitor. They try in vain to calm Villanelle down, only agitating her further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What on earth is going on here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn, as calm and composed as ever, walks into the room with a disapproving frown. She hands Elena a stack of folders and quickly makes her way to Villanelle’s bedside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Villanelle dear, this is rather unbecoming for a woman of your accomplishments.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn ushers the nurses out of the room, who have clearly already learned to listen to her without question, and then returns to Villanelle and unbuckles the restraints. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These were simply a precaution, for your own safety of course. You really must try not to move, that external fixator for your elbow is rather costly, plus the bandages on your back will slip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally free, Villanelle tucks her legs underneath herself so that she is sitting crisscross and flexes her uninjured arm. The tears have come to a stop but her cheeks are still burning bright red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck the bandages, I need to see Eve!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve is in surgery again, Villanelle. See that bed next to you? If she doesn’t need to be in the ICU they will bring Eve in here to recover once she wakes up. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not okay. What if she’s dying right now and I’m not with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what? Eve is surrounded by some of the best surgeons in the country. She is in better company than you right now, and you need to let them work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle instinctively moves to fold her arms to demonstrate how cross she is, forgetting about the metal contraption literally bolted into her bones. She hisses in pain from even the smallest movement and bites her lip hard as a distraction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena can’t help but chuckle under her breath “We told you not to move.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s glare instantly makes Elena fall silent. “What happened to Helene? Did we get the job done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know Villanelle, all is fair in love and war, and you have proven yourself to be remarkably good at both.” Carolyn pauses to let a small, genuine smile slip. “You beat her within an inch of her life but Helene is</span>
  <em>
    <span> currently </span>
  </em>
  <span>alive. She’s already given up the names of several other top ranking Twelve members and Elena has verified the intel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn holds out her hand, prompting Elena to give her the stack of folders she had passed off earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all here, death certificates, fake surgical reports, new passports, IDs, and cash. The official documents say that Eve was pronounced dead at the scene while you died on the table. This is watertight work, no one in The Twelve will know that you’re alive. Plus, they’re about to have bigger problems on their hands now that we have some solid leads to go off of. You’re free to run along and do whatever it is that retired assassins do these days. Bird watching was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Villanelle replies with a sharp exhale of air. “Bird watching.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was supposed to feel like a victory, the crowning achievement of her career. Instead, Villanelle just feels sick to her stomach all over again, and not because of the anesthesia. She is supposed to be enjoying this information with Eve. All of this, every drop of blood, sweat, and tears that went into this job, was so that she and Eve can be together in peace. But now it feels like this was all for nothing. It feels like she failed Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you doing this, Carolyn? This has to go beyond your job description. I know you have to have worked with The Twelve before, so why did things change? If Eve dies, why did we do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn has gathered her belongings and is now standing by the door with Elena beside her. The older woman looks down at the thin gold chain dangling from her neck. She picks up the small oval dangling at the end of it, running a fingertip over the smooth surface almost lovingly before opening it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a mournful, yet adoring smile, she turns the locket so that it is facing Villanelle. Inside, there’s a black and white photograph of the smiling face of a handsome young man. He looks happy and content, beaming at whatever is behind the camera.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn offers a small, sad nod in confirmation. “They took Kenny from me so now I’m going to take everything they’ve ever cared about from them. I am going to burn The Twelve to the ground until there is nothing left but ashes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of her eye, Villanelle notices Elena reach up to grasp her own matching lockets. A look of what Villanelle can only guess is regret crosses over her features before being replaced by determination. “We’re going to get every last one of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good!” Satisfaction settles in the pit of her stomach in knowing that karma is coming to those who deserve it most. “If Eve dies today I will be with you to strike the next match, but if she lives, I look forward to never seeing your face again, Carolyn.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rare laugh leaves Carolyn’s lips as she snaps the locket shut. “Deal.” Before closing the door, the senior agent smiles over her shoulder. “Give Eve my best when she wakes up, won’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. When she wakes up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door closes and Villanelle finds herself alone. She collapses back against the bed and covers her eyes with her one movable arm. Her breath comes in shaky, shallow gasps as she tries, and fails, to maintain some semblance of composure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over and over again Villanelle reminds herself that Eve is still alive. Surely she would feel it in her heart if Eve had died, right? And no news is good news, right? They are probably stitching her up right this very moment and in no time at all Eve will be beside her recovering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle refuses to let her mind wander to darker places again. She instead fills her brain with ideas of what they can do once they’re both healed. She imagines all of the countries that they will travel to, all of the delicious food they will eat, and all of the fantastic sex they’ll have all over the world. She thinks that it’ll be nice to kiss all of Eve’s scars, trace their outlines with her tongue. Her own physical scars will surely be bad too, but Villanelle knows it is her deep, inner scars that Eve loves to kiss most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears threaten to surge out at that point so she switches to imagining the house that they’ll eventually design together.  Light will stream in from large windows and skylights in every room, novel after novel stacked precariously on the shelves will span from floor to ceiling, and there will always be expensive, luxurious coffee fully stocked in the sprawling kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most importantly, their house will always be filled with love. Villanelle hates how that cliché thought makes her insides flutter, but it does nonetheless. Their house will be warm and inviting and beautiful. Pictures will hang from every wall like an open scrapbook of their adventures together. Of course there will be yelling and fighting too. Probably plates smashed to pieces and holes punched through drywall, but it’ll all be worth it. Every single second with Eve, whether they are fighting or making love, is a gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Eve, Villanelle never really pictured her future. It had always been some intangible shadow of an idea at the fringes of her mind, a theory that she never considered eventually practicing. Now it’s all she has to hold onto. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle keeps holding on as the seconds tick by. The analog clock across from her bed narrates the event, bringing  anxiety with every slight movement of its hands. Just when Villanelle thinks she is going to go mad from the ticking, dreaming, and waiting, there is a knock at her door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An older man in a long white coat enters the room. Dr. Marsh- his name tag reads in bold, black letters. Villanelle’s gaze moves past him to the painfully empty hallway beyond, and she stops breathing. Eve is not there...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am, Miss Martens said to make you aware of any developments with your partner’s case, so I wanted to let you know that they are bringing her to recovery right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Recovery? She’s okay?” Villanelle’s voice is barely a whisper. Tentative relief and hope flood her system and seem to choke her, preventing any other sound from coming out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s far from out of the woods, but she made it through surgery. We will be monitoring her closely in the ICU. She needs aggressive antibiotic treatment, fluids, and pain control. It’s a long road to recovery, but we’re hopeful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter how long and treacherous the road ahead, it can’t be nearly as bad as the trail of blood and ash that lies behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve is strong. She will make it.” Villanelle says with a firm nod of her head. Happy tears sting at her eyes and Villanelle is surprised that she has any left to cry at all. This last month brought more crying than the entirety of the rest of her life combined. “Is she awake yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, and she probably won’t be for a while. I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take me to her room then.” Villanelle swings her legs over the side of the bed and very carefully inches into a standing position. Her legs feel like cooked pasta and her head spins momentarily, but she grits her teeth, thinks of Eve, and takes her first step forward. “I need to be with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Marsh visibly pales. He takes several steps back until he is pressed against the eggshell colored wall, hand reaching out to open the door further. “Who… who let you out of your restraints?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn did.” a wolfish grin covers Villanelle’s features. “And I have no problem making her regret that decision unless you take me to Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holding his hands up in surrender, the doctor sighs and begins to very cautiously approach the former assassin. “Okay, let’s not do anything rash. Please let me unhook you properly. You quite literally have no usable veins left for IVs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle obliges, partially because she is still too weak to really do anything about it and partially because she is amused by his response. Once she is successfully disconnected from all the monitoring and her IV is capped off, Villanelle grabs the folders from Carolyn and starts the arduous process of walking down the hallway. It’s not far at all, just one ward over, but every step feels like a mile. Dr. Marsh offers no assistance, clearly still a bit on edge, but finally they make it to room number 256. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are no doors in an ICU, only curtains that mostly remain open. Numerous nurses and doctors are rushing about the ward in every direction, and the phones seem to never stop ringing. Being in this environment brings up the increasingly familiar feeling of anxiety in Villanelle’s chest, making her shift her weight from foot to foot as she bounces her knee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have them bring my bed in here. I’m not leaving her side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle doesn’t wait for a response before walking forward on shaking legs and pulling the curtain aside. Her eyes follow dozens of wires and tubes until they land on the small figure at the center of the bed. A mop of messy dark hair is splayed across the pillow, tugging at Villanelle’s heart strings with the sight of it. She would know that hair anywhere! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve!” Relief unlike any she has ever felt before washes over Villanelle. She surges forward and collapses into the chair beside her lover’s bed. She reaches under the blanket and finds Eve’s cold hand, clasping it desperately in her own and bringing it to her lips to kiss fervently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry baby.” A fresh wave of tears pool in Villanelle’s hazel eyes, rolling down her cheeks until they reach Eve’s golden skin. “We did it though; we won! It’s game over and we won.” Still, Villanelle feels like this isn’t really a victory until Eve opens her eyes. “Please baby, please wake up soon. I’ll be right here waiting. I’ll wait forever if I have to but we both know how impatient I can be, so please hurry up and wake up for me, my love.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the hours tick by without Eve waking. The nurses bring in another bed as requested and set Villanelle up again with her IV drip hanging from a pole that she can wheel around as needed, but Villanelle doesn’t move at all. She stays exactly where she first landed, sitting right beside Eve, as close as possible and holding Eve’s hand in a death grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sunlight that filters in through the small window gradually fades to blues, purples, and finally black. The harsh fluorescent bulbs dim across the ward, with the exception of the central nurses station, and the constant ringing of machinery fades to a dull buzzing. Gentle, occasional snores are the only sounds coming from the other rooms, and Villanelle closes the curtain entirely to diminish them even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have the words to explain to you how much I love you, Eve.” Villanelle lets Eve’s hand go and brings her fingers up to gently trace the curve of Eve’s face now that they have some more privacy. Her skin is soft and smooth but still too cold. “Not in any language I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets her fingertips brush against Eve’s lips and closes her eyes remembering the pure bliss she felt when they kissed for the first time back on that bus. Villanelle had walked away from that experience feeling higher than any drug could ever make her. She knew she was addicted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the one who taught me the real language of love. I thought it was Anna, but it was you, Eve. You taught me the difference between obsession and love; not that I’m not still obsessed with you because, believe me, I am, but we both know it is different now. We are different in the same way. Together, we are so much more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle smiles softly and takes Eve’s hand again. “I knew we would be more from the minute I saw you in the hospital bathroom. You ruined me and I loved every second of it. I think I ruined you too. But it was so beautiful, wasn’t it? To see no one else but each other? We are beautiful together and I hope we have the rest of our lives to grow and explore that beauty. Unless we consume each other first, like you said we might, but that would be beautiful in itself too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle sniffles and briefly wipes her eyes. She lowers her head so that it is resting on the bed with her cheek touching Eve’s open palm, ignoring the pain the position causes in her left arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t leave me, Eve. I don’t think I could survive it if you did. You see me, the real me, and you love me anyway. That’s the greatest gift anyone has ever given me and I’m still not sure I deserve it. But I’m greedy, you know that, so I need one more gift. I need you to wake up for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle watches her face carefully for even the slightest hint, just a tiny flicker of life, but the stillness is unbearable. “That could be my Christmas gift, you waking up. Christmas is only a few days away but I like gifts any time of year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle closes her eyes and takes a few steadying breaths. She leaves her eyes closed while she starts to talk again. It’s difficult to see Eve this way, plus exhaustion is setting in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember all the gifts I got you, especially in the beginning? I love that you still wear the perfume. And you looked so amazing in that black and white dress. I’m sorry I ruined it by killing that guy in it. He didn’t look half as good wearing it as you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft chuckle leaves her lips at the memory. “That was the day you held a toilet brush in my face. You looked so adorable using it like a sword. That was the first time you called me Oksana. I didn’t realize it, but that was a gift too. I’d never heard my name said by such a beautiful voice before. Speaking of beautiful voices, I think my song has been the best gift I’ve given you. It’s what brought us here, isn’t it? Music can heal, at least that’s what the bus driver said.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The melody of what Villanelle now considers their song begins to slip from her lips in a soft vibration. She traces patterns across Eve’s forearm as she hums, letting the soothing rhythm fill the space between them. She hopes that in whatever dream world Eve is stuck in right now she can hear her, or at least feel the healing message.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the tune comes to a close, Villanelle opens her eyes again and smiles sadly down at her lover. She remembers her family in Russia singing around the table to Elton John, she remembers the terrible train ride home listening to anything just to drown out the screaming in her head, she remembers her headphones, a symbol of betrayal, in Konstantin’s hands, and thinks that music is only healing when it involves Eve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, genius strikes! Villanelle sits up in her chair and smiles widely. “I have another gift for you, Eve! My little brother showed me this song and I think you will like it very much. Consider it an early Christmas gift, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hauntingly beautiful keys of a piano begin to play in Villanelle’s head. She squeezes Eve’s hand and lets every emotion she’s ever felt weave it’s way into her words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide. I don’t have much money, but boy, if I did I’d buy a big house where we both could live. If I was a sculptor, but then again, no. Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show. Oh, I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song and this one’s for you.</b>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything is for you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>And you can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put it down in words- how wonderful life is when you’re in the world.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle pours her heart and soul into the words, all while keeping her voice just above a whisper. This performance is for Eve and Eve alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>“I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss. Well, a few of the verses, well, they've got me quite cross, but the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song. It's for people like you that keep it turned on. So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do, you see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue. Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean is yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.” </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle pictures Eve’s eyes, deep pools of chocolate that pierce right through her. They really are the sweetest eyes she’s ever seen. There isn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do to see those eyes open right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>And you can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put it down in words- how wonderful life is when you’re in the world. I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put it down in words- how wonderful life is when you’re in the world.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>There really are no tears left to cry at this point. The well has finally run dry and Villanelle feels completely drained. “Life really is wonderful with you in the world, Eve. I can’t imagine it without you.” She kisses Eve’s bruised knuckles and nuzzles her cheek against the soft skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there is the slightest twitch. Villanelle isn’t sure if she’s imagined it or not, but she’s fairly certain that Eve’s pinky finger just moved! Jerking her head back, Villanelle’s eyes dart between her lover's hands and face, desperate for another hint that Eve is here with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve?” It happens again! Another twitch,  her whole hand this time, followed by a slight wrinkling of dark eyebrows. “Eve!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s entire being swells and bursts with immeasurable happiness. It flows out of her, propelling her to her feet with a jump of joy. Her relief masks the pain coursing through her body so that all she can really feel is the perfect delight of Eve’s presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re awake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Eve’s eyes blink open and adjust to the dim light. Chocolate orbs settle on Villanelle, drinking her in like they did the first time they met. “It’s not fair.” Her voice cracks and wobbles but it is still the most beautiful thing that Villanelle has ever heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Villanelle replies with a confused giggle. “You’re delirious but thank god you’re awake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean it’s not fair that you get to have such a beautiful face and a beautiful voice too. Like come on, pick one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle melts, absolutely dissolves into a puddle of pure bliss. She doesn’t care about the metal holding her arm together or the IV sticking out of her hand, she doesn’t even register the wires strapped to Eve's chest, all that matters is that Eve is here and now she can hug her. Villanelle giggles uncontrollably between winces of pain as she wraps her one good arm around her lover. The embrace is painful and clumsy, but perfect too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve buries her head in the crook of Villanelle’s neck and greedily breathes in as much of her as possible. When she was being held in Villanelle’s arms on the elevator she wasn’t sure if she would ever get to see this perfect face again. Eve really thought that was going to be the end of their story. It would have been a tragic ending, but it turns out that all this was just the beginning!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m never going to leave you, V.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eve, I’m so sorry-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t.” Eve cuts her off gently and presses a light kiss to Villanelle’s parted lips. “It’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter anyway. All that matters now is that I’m here with you. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two women press their foreheads together. Silent declarations of love and adoration pass between them with the fluttering of their eyelashes. Villanelle has never felt so at home. She knows without a shadow of a doubt that every terrible moment of her checkered past was just a stepping stone to bring her to this perfect ending. Despite it all, she wouldn’t change a damn thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you Eve, and I’m so happy that you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This ending really is only the beginning of their story. Growing old together is hardly the same as tales of knights, princesses, and fire breathing dragons- or, in this case, assassins, secret agents, and international crime syndicates- that’s why no one ever writes about it. Yet, in their own way, the stories that come next are even more enchanting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, no one writes about the kind of happiness that is shared early in the morning over a pot of coffee, when you make it just right for the person you love and watch them smile when the first drop hits their lips. No one writes about I-love-yous whispered in passing at the front door before you leave for a long day of work, or from the backseat of a taxi cab after a wonderful date. No one writes about the joy found in hanging up your lover’s clothes in a closet that you both share, and then later stealing the most comfortable shirt of theirs as pajamas for yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter the details of the story that lies ahead for these soulmates, they are just happy to be in it together. Besides, it’s Villanelle and Eve after all, they find a way to make even the most mundane of things an adventure when they’re together. Like growing old, deeply and madly in love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fin. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To be honest, I've never finished writing something this long before so the anxiety I felt while producing this chapter was insane. I just felt a lot of pressure to make it good and wrap up everything in a way that you would all enjoy. I really hope I've accomplished that. Please let me know what you think!</p><p>Expect the epilogue to be up in about a week. And as always, thank you so much for taking this journey with me!</p><p>Hit me up on tumblr @getyourgayon</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies in advance, the few lines of Korean in this are 100% from goggle translate so I'm sorry about any mistakes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Villanelle and Eve have a cat named Elton. He is a big pile of black and white fluff who enjoys laying directly in the center of the kitchen floor where the warm sunlight filters in through the skylight. No matter how many times Elton nearly gets stepped on, or how many other much more comfortable sunbathing spots the large house offers, he refuses to budge once he’s settled in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve returns home from a long day of work expecting to find Elton sleeping in his usual place, but the floor appears to be free of tripping hazards for the moment. She sets her purse down on the kitchen counter next to their ceramic salt and pepper shakers that look like little sharks. Villanelle had picked them out during their last trip to the coast. She found them in a small boutique across from her favorite ice cream parlor that serves specialty flavors like cannoli and key lime pie. Eve smiles fondly as she remembers the little jump and squeal of delight that Villanelle had done once she saw them through the window.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sharks are seriously misunderstood, Eve! Sure, they kill people and whatever, but they are only doing what they have to do to survive. Besides, they are the ones that live in the oceans! Humans just pollute and infest their homes. I would kill them too if I were a shark.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle had flashed Eve a mischievous smile before tipping her head back with laughter. That beautiful sound is like music to Eve’s ears no matter how many times she hears it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shark was also the ridiculous last name you tried to use to get us past the second floor at the casino. Do you remember, Mrs. Tallulah Shark?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course I remember, Cher Horowitz.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They had both laughed then, feeling happy and carefree, and the little shark figurines got to come home with them. Eve runs her fingertip affectionately along one’s dorsal fin before the delicious smell of roasting meat catches her attention. She opens the oven door just a crack, releasing a flood of steam and a blast of the wonderful aroma of beef, onions, and potatoes. Her mouth waters as she breathes in the heavenly scent, reluctantly closing the door to let their dinner finish cooking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V, I’m home! Dinner smells great!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve turns to the refrigerator and fishes out their half finished bottle of wine from the night before. She had a hard day at work between her students acting unruly despite their college age and the head of her department being a dickswab even more so than usual, so she’s been looking forward to a drink all day. However, there’s something she’s been looking forward to much more, or rather, someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe, do you want some wine?” When there is no answer, Eve takes her glass and sets off in search of the one face she has been longing to see. There’s something about those cat like hazel eyes that always manage to calm Eve’s nerves yet excite her all at the same time. “Work was shit, I want to tell you about it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve sips her wine as she walks from the kitchen, through the living room, and towards the stairs. She runs her fingers over the stacks upon stacks of books, written in every language known to man, that are piled high on the shelves. She pauses in front of their old, worn and well loved record player and selects Fleetwood Mac's Greatest Hits from the copious amount of records to choose from. Eve dials the volume low and hums along as she sets off up the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light blue walls of the stairwell are essentially a documentary of the couple’s adventures together. Smiling faces under the Eiffel tower, standing on the Great Wall, and in front of the pyramids are preserved forever behind glass, just to name a few. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve lingers next to her favorite for a moment. It's a candid photo of Villanelle sunbathing on the beach in Greece. Her lover had looked positively radiant in her white bikini, lounging beside bright blue waters. The view had been spectacular, and not just of the beach, so Eve couldn’t help but capture the image. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That day had been perfect. Villanelle had packed a little picnic of salted meats and cheeses with wine and fruit. They spent the whole time eating, talking, and splashing around in the crystal clear sea. Villanelle had even dragged Eve under the small waves with a particularly enthusiastic pounce at one point, but Eve couldn’t stay mad at her partner because she looked so damn beautiful with droplets of water sparkling on her cheeks and a wide smile on her pink lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That tiny alcove of private beach had become their own little world. Then again, everywhere they go feels like that as long as they’re together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve remembers putting sun lotion on her lover’s back that afternoon. The dozens of scars left from the shards of glass that had dug their way into Villanelle’s beautiful flesh were still raised and angry then, not dull little lines like they are now, seven years since Greece and a full ten since incurring them. Eve had taken her time to kiss every single one before applying the lotion. She still does, kissing each scar every night when they are alone and professing their love for one another. It’s become a sort of ritual for Villanelle and Eve. The scars are a symbol of victory and protection, a visualization of just how far they’ll go for each other.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the same day that Carolyn had called them with the good news. Eve answered her burner phone despite Villanelle begging her to just let it ring so they could continue uninterrupted, but Eve’s gut was telling her it was important. And her gut was right, as per usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, that’s it then. Officially, The Twelve no longer exist.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you mean by officially?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Carolyn had said it so calmly, so matter of fact, but Eve had been confused by her former boss’s word choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It took three years, but one through twelve have been officially eliminated. Unofficially and undoubtedly, with time, little factions will pop up from the scraps that remain to form some new monstrous entity, but for now I am satisfied knowing that there is no one left alive who dealt a hand in the fates of our loved ones.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve never known you to be satisfied, Carolyn.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eve replied with a soft chuckle, prompting a snort of amusement from Carolyn as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re quite right about that Eve, but, for now, this will do.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, well good luck with whatever comes next I guess.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know Eve, you could still be involved in what comes next if you want. I know we don’t always see eye to eye on things but I promise that you will never be bored. And you’ve proven yourself to have quite the diverse skill set.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve had smiled as she trailed her eyes over the beautiful blonde lounging next to her. The sun was cast over her golden skin in such a way as to make it glow, and her long hair fell over her shoulders in enchanting waves.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “I don’t think boredom will be a problem.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Villanelle smirked knowingly as she caught Eve’s gaze.. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Alright then, give Villanelle my best. Or is she going by her new name these days? I did think it was a rather fitting choice when she requested it for the new papers. Well, either way, I hope you two enjoy the Mediterranean. I do love their olive tapenade. You simply can not go to Greece without eating barrels of it.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>And just like that, the line went silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve had expected to feel more of a weight lifting off her shoulders, but as she soaked in the information and the late afternoon sun, she realized that the weight had been gone for quite some time already. She had left it at the hospital, or perhaps even earlier. Looking back, Eve determined that as soon as she said yes to meeting Villanelle at that stupid karaoke bar she had never felt lighter, safer, or more sure of herself despite all of the danger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The memory puts an extra spring in her step as Eve dashes up the last of the stairs, eager to finally see her lover. “V? Where are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the office, I can’t move though so you’ll have to come to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The strange response brings Eve momentary pause, but after ten years she’s gotten fairly used to Villanelle’s odd comments and requests, so she simply shrugs and continues to the end of the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the office that the two women share is cracked open just an inch, letting Eve peer into the large room. Pale green paint meets a massive arched window that takes up the majority of the back wall. Matching desks made of birch wood are placed so that they look through the window and out to their small garden with its ripening tomatoes and slowly growing zucchinis, and then to the expansive Canadian wilderness beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a view like that this property should have been wildly expensive, but they got it for a steal. A dead body was found a long time ago on the grounds which scared off a lot of potential buyers. Honestly, that’s partially why they fell in love with the plot and chose to build here in the first place. It also helps that they have no neighbors for several acres in every direction and there is a train station that goes directly into Toronto only a twenty minutes drive away. Their home is secluded and private, yet close to city life. The perfect combination for a retired assassin and former MI6 agent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The office is one of Eve’s favorite rooms in the house because of the view, as well as the countless hours that the couple spends in here together. It’s not uncommon for an entire day to pass with Eve researching whatever has caught her fancy at the moment or grading papers while Villanelle reads, sprawled out across the worn leather sofa like a starfish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve gently toes the door open, not wanting to disturb whatever curious thing is keeping Villanelle from moving. Her heart melts when she sees the situation before her. “Really? This is why you couldn’t come kiss me hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve smiles fondly at the two creatures before her but shakes her head in mock disapproval. Villanelle is sitting in the large armchair in the corner of the room with her long legs dangling over the side. There’s a book in her hand and several others scattered on the floor around her. In her lap, audibly snoring and looking as happy as a clam, is Sir Elton John the cat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you expect me to do, Eve? He is sleeping. And look at his little face, so precious!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve just shakes her head again but can’t keep from smiling even wider. “Remember when you said, and I quote, ‘that mangy thing is never coming in our house!’ not even a year ago when he showed up at our back door?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm, no. I do not recall that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides Eve, you know he tricked his way in. He is manipulative. Takes after his mother like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, and which mother would you be referring to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two women laugh at that and Eve sets her wine glass down on her desk. Elton wakes from the noise and stretches dramatically before jumping to the floor and trotting out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was just keeping your spot warm for you anyway.” Villanelle grins and gestures to her lap before swinging her legs around so that she is sitting up right with her feet on the floor. The book she was holding falls to join the others littered on the rug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve kicks the pile lightly as she moves closer to her partner and raises an eyebrow. “Did you get through all of these today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I only read the first few chapters of each before getting bored. How can I be expected to translate when the words are just so boring!” Eve can only smile as Villanelle lifts her arm in exasperation. “I’m going to send them back. They know that I only translate good books, yet all they’ve sent me is garbage lately!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remind me again why they don’t just fire you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I am amazing, obviously. Who else can translate something into 10 languages as quickly and accurately as me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one.” Eve admits almost begrudgingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. Besides, I really do enjoy translating when the material is good. I’m just so sick of stories about white men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it.” Eve says with a laugh and roll of her eyes as she straddles Villanelles lap, letting her knees sink into the fabric so that the rest of her body is flush with her lover’s. She wraps her arms around Villanelle’s neck and gently scratches the place where her hair meets soft skin. “I guess you are pretty amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“너도 내 사랑이야” (And so are you, my love). Hearing Villanelle talk in Eve’s familial tongue always sends shivers down her spine. At least it does once she gets past the initial spark of annoyance that Villanelle took to the Korean language so quickly. Should Eve have really expected any different though? Especially considering the many months they spent there while she was still recovering from her gunshot wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole time Eve had been fascinated by how quickly Villanelle’s mind worked. She had watched in awe as Villanelle ordered street-food for them in broken Korean after only a few weeks, then nearly fluently at the end of their six month stay. Though painful from recovery, those months had been some of the best of Eve’s life. They were full of firsts for the couple. First real date, first concert, first real argument, first time getting to just be together without the threat of imminent death looming over their heads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their time in South Korea proved to Eve, not that she really needed any convincing but nonetheless, that she and Villanelle could work as a couple in a setting that didn’t involve violence and danger. It proved that their own version of normal really works for them and that everything they had been fighting for was worth it 1 million times over. Eve cherishes that time together, just like she cherishes every single minute since The Bridge Bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a hellish journey but it’s brought them heaven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the tingle of memories on her tongue, Eve brings her lips to Villanelle’s in a languid yet passionate kiss. She leans into the embrace and moans softly at the feeling of Villanelle’s long fingers running through her messy hair. Her own hands wander down to her lover’s hips, greedily pulling her even closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “나에 대해 또 뭘 좋아하는지 말해줘.” (Tell me what else you like about me, since I am so amazing.) Villanelle whispers as she trails open mouth kisses down the expanse of Eve’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s true. Villanelle can be rude and bratty. She’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission and she uses sarcasm as an acceptable response to every single scenario. She’s also thoughtful and unwaveringly loyal. She’s fiercely protective and she would go to the ends of the earth simply if Eve asked her to. She’s stronger than anyone Eve has ever met yet softer in some ways too, not than anyone else will ever get the honor of seeing that side of her. Villanelle is so many things and Eve loves every piece of her puzzle equally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love everything about you.” Eve whispers it like a prayer. “Everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle buries her face in the crook of Eve’s neck and simply holds Eve close. She breathes in the floral scent of her lover’s shampoo mixed with the intoxicating aroma of La Villanelle perfume. To Villanelle, it is now the smell of comfort and acceptance. It means that she’s home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even after all this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Eve can’t help a little snort of laughter. “I thought if anything you would be the one to get sick of me first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle pops her head up and grins mischievously with a flash of white teeth. “The only thing I am sick of is you stealing the blankets in the middle of the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t do that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why do I wake up at 2am shivering like some poor orphan with not even a scrap of blanket?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you toss and turn approximately 100 times and throw the blankets all over the place!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I don’t!!” Villanelle pouts and leans back against the armchair as she folds her arms over her chest. Eve knows she shouldn’t, but she thinks Villanelle’s pouting is adorable. Not that she would ever admit it out loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Eve’s about to goad Villanelle even further, they hear the oven ding from downstairs. Villanelle’s face lights up and she returns her hands to Eve’s hips. “Dinner is ready!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With no effort at all, Villanelle stands while holding Eve as if the older woman weighs next to nothing. The years have changed many things, but Villanelle’s physical prowess is not one of them. She was never a huge fan of exercising strictly. She really only did it as a necessity or to clear her head; hunting down targets was really always what she had considered fun fitness. But with that part of her life long behind her, Villanelle currently enjoys teaching women how to beat the shit out of any scumbag who dares to touch them. It keeps her muscles strong and her skills sharp, should she ever need them again. Plus it has the added bonus of knowing that her knowledge contributed directly to some bastard getting what he deserved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve grips her lover’s shoulders tightly from the surprise of being lifted so abruptly. There’s a slight lurch in her stomach from the movement but it is swiftly followed by the spreading warmth of desire. Eve wonders if it is normal to still get those sparks after all this time. Had they ever truly been there with Niko? She doesn’t think so, but her memory has slowly faded into two distinct sections- before Villanelle and after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything from the before is a bit hazy. Whenever Eve thinks about it, she feels as if it is the early hours of the morning and she has just woken from a dream. The dream, neither good nor bad, blows like wind through her fingers without her ever really grasping it, fleeting and inconsequential. But the after, the after is bright and vibrant and powerful. It’s more than Eve ever imagined life had in store for her, but then again, her life didn’t really start until she met Villanelle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve hugs her legs around Villanelle’s waist, locking herself securely in place and making the younger woman give a hum of approval. She tangles her fingers through blonde lockes and can’t help herself from kissing her lover deeply. There they are again, those wonderful little sparks that always seem to become a raging wildfire inside her. Eve is tempted to give in to the flames, but she remembers the heavenly smell coming from downstairs and her stomach starts to protest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, dinner will burn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? You know I like to eat dessert first anyway.” Villanelle’s grin is positively wolfish, which does nothing to calm Eve’s desires. Villanelle licks her lips to emphasize her point, which would have been the last straw if Eve’s stomach didn’t choose this exact moment to let out a monstrous rumble. Rolling her eyes, Villanelle sets Eve down with another adorable pout. “Fine, real food first, but then maybe I can have second helpings of dessert later? My sweet tooth is just insatiable.” It’s the wink that does it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve is properly blushing as she nods enthusiastically. “Dinner, dessert, out with Elena for karaoke night, then dessert again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot that is tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve retrieves her wine glass from the desk and follows her partner towards the kitchen. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I didn’t think you would turn down an opportunity to put on a show. Plus, Elena is only in town for a couple more days before she goes back to London and she wanted to go out with us before leaving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elena should just move here. I mean, she’s here often enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think she’ll ever stop working for Carolyn, but yeah, that would be nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on Eve, I didn’t say it would be nice, just that it would make more sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve snickers and pokes her partner affectionately. “Admit it, you like her.” Villanelle makes a face as if she has just smelled something revolting. “Well, she likes you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle’s features soften and she turns her attention wholly on getting the pot out of the oven. “No she doesn’t. She likes Violet Vasilpolkova.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That earns a raised eyebrow from Eve, as they rarely use their new ‘legal’ names in the house. Then again, Villanelle hardly uses her other chosen name either, preferring to just go by V most days. Eve still loves the way Villanelle rolls off her tongue, especially in the bedroom, and she honestly loves Violet Vasilpolkova too, especially when it’s said in a thick Russian accent. But no matter what her lover wants to be called, she is still the same charmingly annoying, lovable soul underneath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle had requested the name Violet in a state of delirium from her hospital bed while in and out of consciousness after the casino. It had been the funniest thing to her then, Violet is only one letter away from violent after all, and once Eve heard she thought it was hilariously fitting too. The last name though, that was painfully stitched together from the fabric of her past. Vasil to keep part of Konstantin, kova for her father and the memory of a family that she never really belonged to, and pol right in the middle for Eve. Even if Eve never woke up, Villanelle always wanted at least a fraction of her to hold on to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you her too though?” Eve places her palm on the small of Villanelle’s back in a show of support. Villanelle leans into the touch and offers a small smile in return. “You are so many things. Oksana, Villanelle, Violet, all shades of the same color.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That color looks good on you, Maeve Pargrave.” The heaviness of the moment slips away with gentle laughs and the serving of shepherd's pie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Eve had first seen her new passport with the name Maeve Pargrave in bold at the top she had started crying. Villanelle had panicked, thinking she made the wrong choice, and offered to have Carolyn make a new one, but they were really the heavy, cathartic kind of tears that bring peace once they are gone. Villanelle had chosen Maeve because it had Eve built right in so everyone would assume Eve is just a nickname, and it’s also Irish to symbolize their time on the run in Kinsale. And Pargrave after Bill, the one kill Villanelle wishes she could go back in time and change. It was the least she could do, give Eve this little piece of him back after taking him from her in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, why shepherd’s pie tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was feeling sentimental.” Villanelle smiles between shoveling forkfuls of food into her mouth. “And the peas from the garden needed to be harvested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve smiles at the mention of their garden. At first, everything they had tried to grow ended up at the end of the street inside a black garbage can. There was definitely a learning curve, but now, after many failed attempts, their garden is flourishing. It’s no thanks to Eve, if she’s being honest. Villanelle was the one who eventually got the hang of it, and she’s grown quite skilled. Eve often jokes that it was Villanelle’s Russian ancestors whispering the secret to success that turned the tides in their favor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle spends whole afternoons tending to her plants now. Devoting hour after hour to watering, fertilizing, and pest control. Villanelle doesn’t dwell on it often, but the reason she loves the garden so much is because, other than when she is touching Eve, it is the first time in her life that her hands have caused growth. There is no more blood and nothing to bury but seeds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of dinner passes peacefully while Eve relays stories from her shitty work day as a criminal psychology professor. Villanelle reminds her for the 100th time that Eve should just quit if it bothers her so much. They have the money so it wouldn’t be a problem. But as much as her boss sucks, which all bosses do, and the students can be overwhelming, Eve loves her job. It gives her access to countless archives of cases to research, none nearly as interesting as Villanelle’s but they still tickle her dark brain nonetheless, and it was her ticket in the door to local law enforcement. It’s nothing like MI6, but from time to time the Canadian government will call ‘Maeve Pargrave, expert on assassin and serial killer psychology’ in for an active case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once dinner is over and the dishes have been cleared, the two women move to their living room, nearly tripping over Elton along the way who has made himself comfortable right in the middle of the floor. The Fleetwood Mac record has long since finished playing yet continues to spin in an endless circle. The lights are dim and there is a pleasant glow from the setting sun coming through the window. It offers just enough light to illuminate the delicate features of each other's faces as they stand chest to chest, while casting everything else is dancing shadows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle lets her eyes trail from the ends of Eve’s wild lockes, over the curve of her collar bones, up the smooth expanse of her neck, past her full lips, and finally lets them settle on the deep pools of Eve’s dark eyes. Villanelle will never stop being surprised by the endless supply of love that seems to be held there. She feels as if she could drown in it, in a good way, not like the terrible drowning that was not knowing if she would ever see these eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With gentle fingers, Villanelle lightly traces the swell of Eve’s cheekbones as she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dance with me, my love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eve smiles in response as she wraps one arm around Villanelle’s waist and takes V’s hand from her cheek with her other. “Okay, but not too long or we’ll be late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle simply smiles and starts to sway back and forth, dancing slowly to the soundtrack of their life together that plays on loop in her mind. She hears the beginning chords of their song like it’s being played from a piano in another room; it mixes with the melody of Eve’s laughter, the sound of yelling and plates being shattered followed by quiet apologies, the creak of their front door, and  I-love-yous proclaimed under the stars with such passion that Villanelle thinks the words themselves might incinerate her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have all the time in the world as long as we’re here together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Villanelle rests her head on Eve’s shoulder, breathing in the warm scent of her. She squeezes her lover a little closer subconsciously, wanting to hold onto her until the day that they die. Eve responds in kind, getting as close as she can and placing an adoring kiss on the top of Villanelle’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t actually know how much time they have, not really. Does anyone? Especially considering Villanelle and Eve’s checkered past. They did everything in their power to secure as much of a future together as possible, but who knows what fresh evils might await, what ghosts from their pasts could dig hard enough to find them. But no matter what troubles lie ahead, they are prepared to face it hand in hand, dancing the whole way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what true love is, isn’t it? It’s loving someone for every possible minute you have, doing whatever it takes to be together in the face of any and all odds. It’s loving someone despite of and because of their flaws. It’s dancing together even when there is no music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>True love is being asleep, being in the before, and then being shaken wide awake by the sight of your soulmate and catapulted into the after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the time in the world isn’t be enough.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't believe it's over... I started writing this while recovering from surgery and only intended it to be a few chapters, 5-7 max, but here we are over 80,000 words later! Today is my first day back to work since surgery, I literally leave in an hour, so I'm so happy I was able to finish this before my life gets even crazier. </p><p>I don't even know where to begin in thanking you all. I never could have finished without your constant encouragement and support. Every hit, kudo, bookmark, and comment made such a difference I can't even explain it. I hope this story has brought you all at least a little bit of joy because it has given me so much. Thank you!</p><p>For those interested in future works, follow me on tumblr @getyourgayon. Please send prompts, asks, or just come by for some quality queer content and a chat. I also made a spotify playlist for this work if anyone would like to listen: it's under the same title and also by Sunny-Strange. Whenever I get a break from work and school I'm planning on writing some one-shots, maybe even some set in this universe, and I've been mentally planning a Beauty and Beast but darker AU. Let me know if there's interest in any of that please!</p><p>Again, thank you all from the bottom of my heart!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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